


Souls of Asphodel

by cl410



Series: Daughter of Athena [2]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Percy Jackson and the Olympians - Rick Riordan, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: BAMF Darcy Lewis, BAMF Jane Foster, Before the Bullshit as I like to say, Bisexual Bucky Barnes, Bisexual Steve Rogers, Camp Half-Blood (Percy Jackson), Camp Jupiter (Percy Jackson), Canon-Typical Violence, Darcy Lewis-centric, Demigod Darcy Lewis, Demigod Jane Foster, Fluff and Smut, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Jane Foster & Darcy Lewis Friendship, Like, Not Canon Compliant, Pansexual Darcy Lewis, Powers!Darcy, Smut, This is Avengers circa 2012, at all, some angst i guess
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-24
Updated: 2019-09-03
Packaged: 2020-03-13 09:47:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 25
Words: 76,440
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18938437
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cl410/pseuds/cl410
Summary: It’s been just over a year since Darcy successfully stopped the goddess Eris from taking over Mount Olympus and plunging the entire world into chaos. Now she and her family manage a foster home for young, abandoned demigod children, defending them from the monsters that seek to kill all offspring of the Ancient Greek and Roman gods. She has a solid relationship with her newfound father, her found family, and with the two supersoldiers that she’s fallen in love with.But already trouble stirs, bringing a new threat: something is very wrong within the depths of the Underworld, and it’s up to Darcy and her friends to find out what. But this is an opponent like none they’ve ever faced before, a fight that can only end in pain and destruction- because Death herself has come to claim what is hers, and there’s nothing and no one that can stand in her way.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Ok so I definitely I definitely started the Harry Potter crossover and 100% plan to still finish and post it, but I left so much open in Children of Olympus and really loved writing the fusion... enough that I've already written like 10 chapters of this in addition to starting the HP fic. So I guess I'm going to get this out of my system first lol.
> 
> I'll be posting once a week on Fridays, with extra updates whenever I can manage :) 
> 
> Please do not read this until you've read Children of Olympus. Seriously, it will be so confusing.

The metallic tang of blood hung heavy in the air. A trail of sweat slid lazily down Darcy’s face as she ducked the next strike and swung her sword with inhuman speed. The wolf-headed monster exploded into ash, clouding her vision.

She stepped back. Took a calm, measured breath. The others closed in. 

Darcy flicked her empty hand out to the side. The Aegis shot off of her wrist like a bullet. It struck fast, sinking its fangs in the neck of the closest towering opponent. The chaos monster shrieked, buckled, and dissolved into nothing even as she cut down the remaining force with brutal efficiency. 

When it was over, when she was standing alone, breathing hard and surrounded by shadows of dust and ash, Darcy turned to Adrian. She wiped the sweat off her face with an arm. “It didn’t work.”

“No shit,” he muttered, brushing ash off his shirt with a scowl. 

She grinned over at him and leaned down to let Aegis slither into her palm and then curl around her left arm, its tongue flickering over the soft skin of her wrist. “Thanks, little dude.” It wrapped twice around her wrist, let her slide the sword-turned-hairpin between its body and the inside of her forearm, and solidified to gold metal. She twisted her wrist from side to side, making sure the disguised sword would remain pressed between skin and snake. 

Satisfied when it didn’t budge- or turn back into a sword and take off a finger or two- Darcy kicked aside the shattered Stark phone and stepped through the remains of her opponents to join Adrian. He was studying the small, isolated park just outside the city for other monsters. 

Darcy looked around as well, taking in the blinding sun and drifting clouds overhead, the crumbling benches and tables, the soft, cheerful chirps of the birds in the trees overhead. They’d been dead silent only minutes ago. “We’re clear,” she assured him. “That was all of them.” 

The air held a hint of sharpness, the city on the cusp of fall. Already the leaves brightened, glowing red and gold and orange so it appeared they’d turned to flame in the late afternoon sun. She admired the bloom of flowers in the park, trailed a finger over velvet-soft petals nearby. 

She pulled a silver chain over her head and returned it to Adrian. He held out a hand, letting the chain pool in the center his palm. He turned the small metal charm over in his hands with a frown. “Damn. I thought I had it this time.”

Darcy patted him on the shoulder. “Sorry, Adrian.” 

He sighed and shoved the necklace in his pocket with a wry smile. “Maybe I’m just grasping at straws here. This probably isn’t even possible and I’m just too desperate to see it.” 

She shook her head. “No way. I don’t believe that.” He glanced at her when she nudged him with an elbow. “You’re the first of Hestia’s children, you and Thais and Kaori. Everything you’re doing, trying to do? You’re right- it’s never been possible before. Until you.” 

“I just…” He blew out a breath and scrubbed his hands through the dark hair that fell in loose curls to his neck. Darcy rested a hand between his shoulder blades, felt the flex of muscle through his thin t-shirt as he braced his hands behind his head and stared up at the sky. “This would change everything for us, Darcy.” 

“I know.” And she did. If Adrian and his siblings could create individual protections that demigods could wear, protections that would hide them from the monsters that hunted them every day of their lives, it would be groundbreaking. The possibilities were… she really couldn’t even fathom it, not fully. 

Her kids would be safe, wouldn’t have to look over their shoulders for their entire lives the way she did. They could use technology without becoming a beacon for every monster in the state. 

But as she eyed Adrian, noted his tired eyes and frustration, Darcy knew he would work himself to death for the chance to give others the safety he’d always had. Besides their natural protective circle abilities, Hestia’s children seemed mostly immune to the technology allergy that other demigods suffered from. 

Adrian had been testing those abilities, his Circles, trying to create a charm for other demigods to wear for protection. But magic didn’t always cooperate, and the transfer to Celestial Bronze or Imperial Gold charms never seemed to stick. 

He’d figure it out, though. Because he was brilliant and kind and generous, and he wouldn’t stop until everyone he loved was safe. Adrian huffed a laugh when she told him exactly that. He turned, hooked an arm around her shoulders and pulled her into him. 

“Thanks,” he muttered into her hair. Darcy wrapped her arms around his waist and leaned against him, felt him press a kiss to her temple before he released her. 

“You’re too damn hard on yourself,” she told him as they headed back for their battered old truck. The sight of the truck’s faded black paint, chipped and dented from countless run-ins with monsters, made her smile fondly.

“Don’t lecture me again,” he grumbled.  _ “Mom.” _

“If either Hestia or Valeria-” referring to his human mother- “were here, they would say the same thing,” Darcy said imperiously. 

“You’re spending too much time with the kids,” he told her, then yelped in alarm when the sprinklers suddenly went off around them. Darcy cursed under her breath, sputtered as she caught a stream of water right to the face and wondered what the hell was going on. 

The reason became clear when Ash’s face materialized in the ensuing rainbow. “Damned Iris messages,” she muttered, wiping her face with the hem of her damp shirt. The four shiny white scars that wrapped around her waist glinted in the sunlight, permanent reminders of her abduction and imprisonment only a year previous. She dropped her shirt and forcibly put it out of her mind. 

“Thirty minute check in,” Ash said, bored. She saw his home office in the background, whiteboards full of scribbles and notes pinned to the wall visible past his face. “You guys aren’t dead, I see.” 

Adrian sighed. “No, but it didn’t work this time either.” 

Ash winced. “Sorry, buddy.” Adrian just shrugged and looked away. “I’ll see you guys at home, then?” 

“I’m swinging by foster house first to check in,” Darcy told him. “Who’s got Mia?” 

“Shay’s picking her up on the way back from rehearsal.” 

“We’ll see you.” Darcy swept a hand through the rainbow when Ash saluted an agreement, dissolving the Iris message. “C’mon, let’s go check on the kids.” Adrian drove, still quietly preoccupied with his thoughts. Darcy sat back and watched the people multiply as they neared the city, saw flashes of cars and signs and a never-ending stream of humans. 

The Quinn Davis Home for Fosters operated somewhat like a group home. Only on a much smaller scale, and the people running it actually cared about the kids living there. Adrian’s mother Valeria and Ash’s human mother Kamala managed the day to day operations. From there, every demigod or demigod parent that knew Darcy and her family made a point to help- Amelie and her son Luc, Jane, Marley, Aya and Thais, and many of the demigods who’d fought in New York against Eris’s army. 

She’d never imagined this kind of support, everyone coming together and putting their own needs or issues aside for a group of abandoned kids. And the Avengers… Steve and Bucky spent many afternoons at the house, as did Thor. Tony threw money at the place, providing updates and tech for the kids safe behind a triple-enforced Circle. 

Natasha, though. 

Natasha spent more time at the house than anyone else combined, something that took them all by surprise. Darcy always meant to ask why, but the heartbreaking expression on the Russian demigod’s face always stopped her. 

This place meant something to her, too. Maybe even more than it did to Darcy- Natasha had grown up in brutal demigod camps in the depths of Russia, trained to be a killer from the time she could speak. She’d lost her childhood to that cold, to the monsters that turned children into assassins. 

Darcy took in the sleek black Jaguar in the driveway without much surprise when Adrian pulled up to the house and shut the engine off. “Does she ever go home?” Adrian wondered. 

“Doesn’t look like it,” Darcy said. She jogged up the stairs to the sprawling house and through the heavy front door, touched her fingers gently to the inscription with Quinn’s name on it just inside the entrance. 

“Darcy!” Alex scampered into the room, grinning in a way that probably meant trouble. The child of Nemesis hugged her, then Adrian, then darted off again. Only seconds later two young twins, children of Hermes, exploded into the room carrying tiny bows. 

Darcy crossed her arms, unimpressed when they skidded to a stop at the sight of her and exchanged guilty glances. “And where did you two get those?” 

Alianne, only six and already a terror, beamed up at her. “Marcus made them for us!” All children of Ares had spectacular wartime gifts- including the ability to create a weapon out of anything they touched.

Marcus leaned on the railing overhead and called down to her. “Don’t worry. Foam arrows only, Darce.” The fifteen year old grinned when Alex blinked past the doorway and prompted immediate war cries from the twins. A foam-tipped arrow flew through the empty doorway, fired too late. Alex laughed from somewhere deeper within the house.

Darcy squinted at their tiny quivers, saw all arrows tipped with foam, and sent them scampering off with a wave. “Why did you  _ arm _ them?” She complained up to Marcus. 

“They were trying to use the mops as swords,” he explained, sauntering down the stairs. His dark blonde hair flopped into his eyes, letting him hide his face from them- or specifically, from Adrian. “I intervened before someone lost an eye.” 

“Good call,” Adrian said, amused as shrieks echoed through the halls. Marcus blushed fire-engine red and ducked his head. He wasn’t the first to develop a crush on Adrian. The son of Hestia was tall, lean, and handsome with his warm eyes and kind smile. 

Even being in the same room with him brought a sense of safety like nothing she’d ever experienced. It was what so many of these kids needed, too, and had helped them all heal from past wounds. 

“Is my mom here?” At Marcus’s nod, Adrian wandered off to find Valeria. Adrian’s human mother had volunteered to be a live-in caretaker of the abandoned demigods. It seemed that Hestia’s former love had a huge heart, and her love for kids meant she asked Darcy if she could take over management of the house.

Valeria had soothed many of Darcy’s own wounds in the past, so she was more than happy to grant her request. These kids could use some unconditional love in their lives.

“How’s it going, kid?” Darcy asked, ruffling Marcus’s hair when they were alone. Marcus ducked away and grumbled at her, the picture of teenage moodiness. 

“Fine,” he muttered. “Same as yesterday when you asked.” 

Darcy sighed, overly melodramatic.  _ “Teenagers.” _

“You’re, like, twenty seven, Darce. I don’t think you get to do that.” 

“Do what?” 

He waved his hand at her. “The long-suffering mom voice.” 

“Young man, I’ll have you know-” she paused at the sounds of an argument from the other room, frowned, then leaned around the doorway to the living room and called, “What’s the rule?” 

There was a guilty pause, then a heavy sigh from Evette, seated on one of the plush couches. “No using charmspeak on the others.” She waited for the rest of it. And sure enough- “But it’s my turn with the remote, Darce!” 

“Not yet it’s not,” Natasha said smoothly as she passed through the room. “You haven’t finished your homework.” Dual groans sounded as Evette and Jax, one of Hecate’s, stomped off to obey. 

“Hey, Nat. Everything go okay?” The Russian demigod had picked up the kids from school today and guarded them on their way back to the house. They all took turns watching over them, still trying to work out a more efficient system getting them to and from school. 

But for now, between Natasha, Darcy, Shay, Marley, Ash, and Adrian, they managed. With Avengers as backup, she mused as Clint wandered in from the kitchen. 

“You have pink glitter in your hair,” Darcy said helpfully. Marcus hid a laugh.

Clint shrugged. “It is what it is.” 

“No problems,” Natasha answered Darcy’s previous question, eyeing Clint with some amusement. Her phone made a quiet buzz at her hip, drawing her attention. 

Darcy turned to watch Clint shake glitter out of his t-shirt. “Did you lose a fight with a craft store? Styx, Barton, watch where you dump that.” She hopped away from the cloud of glitter. 

He snickered. “I still think it’s ridiculous that you use Styx as a curse- what? What is it?” His entire demeanor changed in an instant, so abruptly fierce that Darcy was startled. She followed his gaze to Natasha. 

Natasha stared at the screen of her phone, frozen in place. Her face was chalk white. 

“Tash.” Clint took a short step towards her. That snapped her out of it. 

She shoved her phone back in her belt and cleared her throat. “Nothing. I have to go.” 

“Alright, let’s go,” Clint said easily. 

Natasha’s gaze snapped to him, suddenly vicious. Dangerous. “No. You’re not coming.” Marcus took a step back at her tone, moving closer to Darcy. She ran a hand across his shoulders in reassurance, frowning at the other two.

“The hell I’m not.” Clint didn’t give her time to argue, just moved for the door. Natasha struggled with herself for a moment, mouth twisting into a snarl, before she gave in and followed. 

“I’ll call you,” Clint murmured to Darcy. The door shut behind them, leaving her and Marcus to stare at each other in confusion. What the hell was that about?

~*~ 

Darcy stopped by the house long enough to grab her overnight bag and help Mia with her math homework. Nyx, Hecate’s deadly gifted Hellcat and Mia’s ever-present shadow, blinked bright purple eyes at her from the top of the fridge. She liked the high ground, apparently. It made Darcy twitchy.

She kissed Mia’s dark head and stood. “Gotta go, baby. I’ll pick you up tomorrow, okay?” 

“Okay.” Mia kicked her feet from her seat at the kitchen table and watched Darcy gather her things. She chewed absently on her pen, a habit she’d picked up from Ash. “Can I spend the night again this weekend?” 

“Sure, kiddo. Or do you want us all to stay here?” 

Mia considered, face scrunched up in concentration. “Both!” 

Darcy laughed. “We can do that.” She and Bucky and Steve had been going back and forth between her house and their apartment, choosing between them nightly based sheerly off of convenience. 

She adored their apartment, she really did, but she couldn’t leave her home. Not with Mia to think about. And the boys didn’t mind, thankfully. They loved Mia too, wouldn’t ever want to upset her by asking Darcy to move out. 

Their lives were crazy enough that it worked. For now, at least. Who the hell knew about the future. At least Tony had quit pestering her about moving them all into the tower. She wanted a little privacy- the all-seeing AI put a bit of a damper on their sense of solitude. 

She passed Ash in the foyer and paused to admire his outfit. “You look nice.” She ran a hand over his dark hair, grinned when he swatted her away. 

“I have a date,” he muttered, rolling his eyes. “Mom set me up again.” 

“Oh, boy.” She patted his shoulder. “Call me if you need an out again.” 

“Thanks,” he said dryly. “Shay and Marley have Mia tonight, and I’ll probably be back soon enough.” 

“That’s the spirit!” 

He flipped her off over his shoulder as he left. She called goodbye to Mia and tossed her stuff in the backseat of the truck. Aegis unwound from her wrist and moved to curl around the steering wheel so he could see outside. 

She rubbed his head absently as she drove, keeping an eye out for any potential threats. But she made it to the apartment without any problems, parked next to the pair of bikes that were a sight with Bucky and Steve straddling them. 

Darcy smiled as she unlocked the door, hearing the soft strains of music and the murmur of voices floating down the hall. She tossed her keys on the table, slid her leather jacket off her shoulders. 

Bucky stepped around the corner, waited until she was within arm’s reach to tug her against him and kiss her in greeting. “Hi, doll,” he said against her lips. She curled an arm around his waist and pressed against him.

Her smile widened. “Hi.”

Steve’s warm body bumped against her back. She craned her neck around to meet his soft blue gaze, felt his hands settle on her waist as he kissed her cheek. “‘M makin’ dinner,” he said, ducking down to kiss her. 

“Mmm.” She waited until he drew back to open her eyes. “Smells good. Better than the take-out I was going to suggest.” He laughed and returned to the stove. 

“Good day?” Bucky asked, keeping her close. She skimmed her hands through his hair, smiling when his eyes drifted shut at her touch. They’d come so far, in this last year. The trust between them scared her sometimes. But mostly it was just a wonder. 

“Pretty good. We tested Adrian’s charm again. No dice.” 

He winced, sympathetic. “But he’s close, right?” 

“He thought so. But it only took a couple minutes of me on a phone for something to track me down.” Hands skimmed along her sides in response, checking for injuries. “I’m fine,” she said, fond. Then she frowned. “Natasha was weird earlier, though. Got a message that seemed to worry her.” 

Bucky frowned as Steve turned away from the stove. “Should we-” 

“Clint went with her,” she reassured them. “I was planning to check in tomorrow. He’ll keep us updated.” 

Bucky relaxed. “Barton will keep her safe.”

“Nat will keep Clint safe,” Steve corrected. 

“They’ll keep each other alive like they’ve been doing for years,” Darcy said dryly. “And there’s no use in worrying until Clint checks in.” 

“Wow, when did you get so wise?” Bucky wondered. He chuckled when she smacked his shoulder. He pressed a kiss to her temple in apology and then twirled them around. 

“No, you know I can’t dance!” Darcy protested, but she was laughing. 

“You just hold on to me and I’ll do all the work,” he promised. He swirled her around the room, laughed with her as they danced and Steve watched on with love written all over his face. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Smut ahead

Darcy strolled down the halls of Stark Tower, skimming through notes on an updated version of Jane’s portal device. Tony had agreed after the attack on Mount Olympus to let Adrian lay down a protective Circle around the tower, which meant she and Jane could safely use tech within it. 

“So you can activate these at any time?” 

Jane nodded. “I’ve placed portals around the city in case we ever need a quick escape- there’s a brief in there for the kids, too, which I’ll pass along the next time I’m at the house.” She swiped a finger on the screen, pointed at the map that popped up with ten or so red dots scattered around the city. “They aren’t currently active, so we don’t need to worry about a human wandering into one by accident.” 

“How do we activate them? I assume you can do it manually from here?” Darcy raised the control panel for clarification.

“Yeah, but that helps no one in a tight spot on the streets. They won’t exactly have time to call me to locate and open one if they’re running from a monster. So the portals are keyed to respond to either Ancient Greek or Latin-” to cover their bases for the Greek and Roman demigods alike in the city- “and will open to the spoken command of ‘open, uncover, or reveal.’” 

“Apokaluptó and ostendeo,” Darcy said, checking with Jane that those commands would suffice. Jane nodded in agreement. “Where does it take them? The closest portal?” 

“Right now, yes, it’ll just transport them through the nearest open portal. I’m working on how to direct the travel to a specific one, though.” She tipped a shoulder. “What that means right now is that somewhere in the city, a portal has to stay permanently open. I considered the one in the foster house at first, but if something else falls through I don’t want the kids in trouble.” 

“Most of them would enjoy the challenge of a monster dropped into their laps,” Darcy said, fond. “But I agree. We’ll have to find somewhere safe- maybe have Adrian put down a Circle around the portal so if a monster does follow them they’ll be trapped.” 

“I’ll see if Stark has any abandoned buildings or basements in his infinite list of assets in the city.” Jane brightened, a spark of mischief in her eyes. “Don’t tell him why I want it, though. He gets all twitchy when he doesn’t know what I’m up to.” 

Darcy eyed her. “Just please remember that we’re all morally obligated to stop you if you decide to become a supervillain, Jane.” Her friend appeared unaffected. “That includes Thor, the love of your life.” Maybe that would keep her in check. 

“Please, like any of you would stand a chance.” She grinned at Darcy’s wary expression. “Kidding. But Stark doesn’t know that, so I’ll see you later.” Jane bounced down the hall, off to sow terror into Tony’s heart. Their friendship mostly consisted of Tony being low-key scared of Jane and Jane thoroughly enjoying it. And occasionally setting things on fire as a reminder to not fuck with her. And then occasionally them both setting things on fire just for fun.

“Ridiculous,” Darcy muttered, but she was smiling. She made a note to add the portal locations to the kids’ training regime- the knowledge would very likely save their lives at some point in the future. 

Footsteps made her look up from the device in her hands. She glanced over her shoulder. Steve was flushed and breathing hard as he trailed her, evidently returning from the gym, sweaty and satisfied. Except- she narrowed her eyes as he passed her, his own heated gaze lingering on her face. 

She knew that look. Was intimately familiar with it by now- both the suggestive expression and his red, swollen mouth. His mussed blonde hair, clothes twisted around his body as if he’d come after her in a hurry. The sight sent a punch of arousal through her. 

Steve stopped a few feet ahead and leaned casually against the wall, watching her approach. She cocked her head, lips curving into a smile at the blatant invitation in his bright blue eyes, and put a little extra swing in her hips. The soft grey skirt swirled around her thighs. 

Darcy slowed her pace, teasing him. He waited with rising impatience, arms crossed and biceps straining against the sleeves of his t-shirt. When she was almost within arm’s reach she stopped, crossed her own arms and smiled victoriously when his eyes dropped to her chest. 

“Can I help you?” 

“You  _ know _ what those do to me, doll,” he said lowly, attention on the bared skin of her thighs. He did like this skirt- had an affection for climbing underneath the soft, gauzy material that rose just high enough on her thighs to reveal hints of lace and the garter straps holding her seamed stockings up. “It’s been drivin’ me crazy all day.” 

She turned her focus back to the device in her hands, clicked a few random buttons and tried to look disinterested even as heat built between her legs. “Oh? Sounds like a  _ you _ problem, Rogers.” 

“It is,” he agreed. He kicked a heel against the wall. A door slid open, revealing a small storage closet that she’d…  _ visited _ sometime before with him. “And I gotta do something about it. Can’t concentrate.”

“Are you saying I’m a liability?” She asked, grinning when he stepped into her, mouth lowering to slide across hers, tongue brushing sweetly against her lips until she opened for him. 

“I’m sayin’ that I’ve been so damned distracted all day, watchin’ you walk past me in the halls and knowin’ what you had on underneath this.” He turned them, herded her into the closet, clicked on the light before she could feel the first stirrings of panic at the small, dark room. 

The door clicked shut. Steve tilted her head back and took her mouth, tongue sweeping into her mouth with dizzying skill. She whimpered into the kiss, clutched at his shirt. Tried not to drop the very expensive portal device in her hands. 

Big, warm hands skimmed under her skirt, fingers playing with the silk garter straps. She gasped into his mouth when he snapped one against her skin, fingers brushing higher and higher. Drifting closer to where she was already wet and aching. 

Steve bit the hinge of her jaw, listened to her whine when his fingertips brushed her panties. And then he dropped to his knees. Darcy wet her mouth and felt her knees threaten to give at the sight of him grinning wickedly up at her. 

He nuzzled against her belly, nipped at the skin above her waistband, and then shoved her skirt up around her hips and brushed his nose against the dampness of her underwear. Darcy reached out blindly to hold onto a shelf. She shoved the portal device onto it and fisted her hand in Steve’s hair while he nibbled his way up her thighs. 

“Already sucked Bucky off in the locker room,” he murmured. He guided one leg up and over his shoulder, spreading her wide. Her panties were nudged to the side, the silk sliding over easily to give him access to where she wanted him most. 

Darcy dropped her head back, swore when it smacked painfully into the wall. “Steve,” she whined, hips moving, back arched. She froze when the door opened, closed just as suddenly, and then relaxed again. 

Bucky leaned back against the closed door, hair wet and smelling of soap. His eyes darkened at the sight of Steve’s face buried under her skirt, her desperate grip on his hair. “What took you so long?” Steve asked, voice muffled. He sucked a mean hickey at the crease of her thigh. 

“You came all over my stomach, punk,” Bucky grumbled. “Then bailed. I had to shower to clean it all off.” Darcy let out a short, breathless laugh at his disgruntled expression.

“Saw Darce pass by,” Steve explained. He moved his free hand underneath her skirt and spread her open while she gasped and squirmed. “Couldn’t resist any longer.” And he  _ finally _ licked into her, face buried in her cunt while she cried out. At her increasingly loud noises, he pulled away to quietly order, “Buck,” and then dove back in. 

Bucky moved obediently forward, wrapped a hand around Darcy’s jaw and kissed her to muffle the needy sounds she made. Steve alternated between fucking her with his tongue and sucking gently at her clit, keeping a rhythm that drove her higher and higher, backing off when she was close. 

Bucky slid a hand- the flesh and blood one, she observed distractedly- under her shirt and then her bra. He caught a nipple between two fingers, tugged gently until she was clawing at him with her free hand. 

“Shh,” he said, soothing. When she didn’t- couldn’t- obey, his metal palm settled carefully over her mouth to quiet her. Which had the opposite effect, of course.

Steve slipped two fingers into her without any warning. She arched, twisted against the swell of violent pleasure as Bucky rolled her nipple, massaging the weight of her breast as his mouth explored the swell of the other. 

She came hard, clenching around Steve’s fingers. Felt tears rise when he didn’t let up, when he drove her back to that edge of pleasure-pain, of too much and not enough. Could only sigh in relief when he abruptly stood, yanked at his pants, and then slid into her to the hilt. 

The burn made her toes curl, the thick stretch of him inside of her setting off a wildfire beneath her skin. Darcy made desperate noises low in her throat as he fucked her against the wall, skin slapping against skin. His hand came up to fist in her hair, drag her head back so he could press open-mouthed kisses to her throat. 

Bucky kept one hand firmly over her mouth. It only made her clench harder around Steve’s cock, thick and hard inside her. Bucky’s other hand slid down to where they were joined, drifting over the slick wet and then up again. His fingers rubbed over her clit. She was pretty sure she screamed with the next orgasm, but couldn’t manage to give a shit. 

Not when Steve was thrusting deeply, groaning as he came in hot spurts in her. He slid out, grinned when she tried to catch her breath. “We’re not done with you yet,” he whispered against her neck. 

She made a strangled sound when Bucky took his place, his cock sliding into her in a long, slow glide. Her legs were shaking now, and only their careful hands kept her on her feet. Bucky took a half step back, pulled her hips out until she was arched back, shoulders against the wall, hips held in place by his firm grip. 

The new angle lit something inside her that had her sobbing out pleas, twisting in place, unable to decide if she wanted to get closer or away from the steady, unrelenting drive of his cock. The sounds they made were  _ obscene, _ and it drove her crazy _. _ Steve gripped her chin, lowered his head and took her mouth with a ferocity that left her limp and dizzy in their arms. 

It was too much. Not enough. She thought she might explode. The intensity of it had her breath catching in her throat, her fingers turning to claws on Steve’s arms. Her eyes were damp. Steve ducked his head, kissed a tear that escaped. 

_ Gods, _ they always knew how to take her apart so thoroughly. “Don’t stop,” she gasped. “Don’t stop don’t stop, please-” Bucky obeyed, planted his feet and fucked into her harder, deeper.

She came on a choked cry, her vision blacking out. She forgot how to breathe for a few seconds, felt Bucky swear and bury his face in her shoulder as he came. Steve pressed kisses to her other shoulder, teeth scraping over the vein in her neck and making her gasp as short little aftershocks made her tremble. 

Bucky pulled away, helped her put her skirt to rights again. Let her cling to him as she caught her breath. He swept a hand along her spine and pressed a kiss to her temple. 

“Fucking hell.” 

She felt Steve grin against her shoulder. “I told you this morning that I’d find you later,” he reminded her. And he had- she’d rushed out the door in a flurry of motion, surprised that he’d let her go at all after watching her dress this morning. 

“I’m impressed with your restraint,” she told him solemnly. 

“I’m not,” Bucky muttered. “He took all his sexual frustration out on me.” 

“You complaining?” 

“Obviously not, punk. But _restraint_ isn’t a word I’d use for you.” 

Steve lifted his head, sent Bucky a heated look. “Oh? And what is?” 

“... Zealous.” 

“Provocative,” Darcy suggested helpfully. 

“Frisky,” Bucky continued. Steve rolled his eyes.

“Horny.” 

“Gay.” Darcy snickered. Bucky gave her a feigned look of disapproval. “That’s not the only thing that word means, Darcy.” But the corner of his mouth was curling up.

Steve tipped his head in consideration. “I mean, the other definition definitely applies. I literally fucked you three hours ago.” 

“That’s gay, Buck,” Darcy informed him. “Very much so.” He huffed.

“Okay, I don’t know how we got so derailed, but my point was  _ going _ to be that we should probably get out of the closet before someone walks in on us. Again.” Darcy perked up and he immediately covered her face with his hand. “No more closet jokes, they’re all terrible.” 

She swatted his hand aside and grinned up at him. “But it’s fun.” 

“No more,” he groaned.

“We should probably stop hooking up in closets, then,” she told him. “I mean, the material’s  _ right there. _ Like, literally every time we do this.” She adjusted her clothes as she spoke, making sure everything was appropriately covered. 

They stumbled out of the closet, attempting to look as though they hadn’t just fucked each other’s brains out. Judging by the raised eyebrows from passing scientists, it didn’t work. Oh well. They were all used to it at this point. 

“You hear from Nat?” Steve asked, tucking the tag back into her shirt collar. 

“No.” Darcy hastily fixed a wayward bra strap. “Nothing yet. Clint sent me a couple texts, but they’re all short and vague as shit.” 

“Do you know who the message was from?” Bucky dragged a hand through his damp hair, brow furrowed. “I don’t like that she disappeared.” 

“Me either, but I’m not going to harass her if she doesn’t want help. She’ll reach out if she needs us.” Life as a demigod taught Darcy that the constant threats couldn’t always be at the forefront of her mind or she’d go crazy. 

If Natasha ran into trouble that she couldn’t handle (and wasn’t  _ that _ a scary thought), then she would bring in whoever she needed to help manage the situation. The Russian demigod knew that she could count on Darcy and her family, not to mention the Avengers. All of them would drop everything to help her. 

But Natasha didn’t ask for help, she thought with a flash of anxiety. Not when it came to personal matters, which her reaction suggested this was about. And then she ordered herself to quit stressing out and trust her friend’s judgement. “Worst case, we get Tony to track her down.” Actually, worst case she asked Hecate to locate the Russian demigod. But that could be tabled for an actual emergency. 

“You’re right.” Still, Steve pressed his lips together in a tight line. Darcy recognized his worried face. She saw it often enough. 

Distraction worked best. “You need a shower. We’re supposed to have lunch with Pepper and Tony and you smell like the gym floor and sex.” Which, now that she mentioned it, so did she.

Steve brightened, smiled winningly at her and Bucky. “So... what you’re saying is that we should go use our apartment shower conveniently located on the next floor?” It  _ was _ convenient, she had to admit. 

“Horny,” Bucky said to her under his breath, dodging Steve’s retaliatory elbow. Darcy choked on a laugh and let them drag her to the elevator. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know I said weekly but I've written far enough ahead that I'm comfortable to revert to my usual twice-weekly updates! Next chapter will be Friday, this one's just a little early.


	3. Chapter 3

Something was wrong. 

A brutal winter wind ripped through her thin pajamas and straight to the bone. It stole the air from her lungs, burning so cold that she choked. Darcy gasped with the pain of it, pried open her tear-filled eyes. 

And saw an empty wasteland. White banks of snow swelled like mountains around her. Shrieks rose on the wind, but when she looked frantically around there was nothing but a veil of white. 

A porcelain, barren expanse. The wind screamed with the fierce storm… or was that a person screaming? Chilled, her heart racing, Darcy squinted through the blizzard, trying to gather her bearings.

And somewhere ahead, a dark shape moved. It glided over the knee-deep snow, left dark red stains on the smooth white ground as it stepped effortlessly through the emptiness. Blood dripped from pale fingers curled into their palm, holding something tightly. 

Her stomach lurched when realization hit. It was a heart. A bleeding,  _ beating _ human heart. 

The figure was concealed by a long, dark cloak. The hood fell around their face, hiding any identifiable features. But she recognized the menace, the malicious glee in every sharp, jerky movement. As though it was unused to freedom of movement, still expected to reach the end of its leash with a violent snap.

This was a monster freed from its chains, one with plans for wrath and retribution. This was evil in human form, it’s very flesh stolen and corrupted.  

And it was coming closer. 

Darcy took a step back, realized her legs were frozen in place, wouldn’t respond when she tried to move them. She collapsed into a drift as high as her head, felt the ice grab for her with cruel fingers that burned her skin. She was nearly hyperventilating now, the swell of danger and polluted magic staining the very air until every draw of breath made her lungs ache and spasm.

Her motions caught its attention. It slowed, turned towards her. The hood slipped back as it straightened, revealed manic eyes, a face as pale as the mountains of snow, bleached of all color. A monstrous mouth, too wide and thin-lipped, revealing viciously sharpened teeth. Slits above that horrifying grin were all that remained of its nose. 

This thing had been human once- or something close to it. 

Her hands shook. She drew away fearfully when it leaned in close, inhaled deeply. “God magic,” it hissed, excitement burning in its eyes. “Yes, I smell god magic here.” A swipe of its hand, straight through her body. She braced herself for excruciating pain, for those terribly long nails to rip right through her. 

Nothing. 

It growled, frustrated, drawing its lips back to bare that mouthful of fangs. “I know you’re here, little полубог. I know a demigod when I smell one.” 

Darcy said nothing, just tried to stay impossibly still. Held her breath when it leaned in again and sniffed. She was prey here, nothing more. A metallic tang filled her mouth, drops of warmth searing into her chest. Blood, dripping from that horrible mouth. Styx, it  _ hurt. _

“No matter. I have your scent now. You’re marked for me.” It gave a wide grin that made Darcy shiver in terror. “I will see you soon enough, полубог.” 

She woke. It took ten seconds of instinctive, primal struggling to remember how to breathe. Too slow, the biting cold faded from her bones. The heat of Bucky and Steve behind her seeped away that burning numbness. 

Slowly so as to not disturb either of them, both still asleep on the other side of the massive bed, Darcy sat up. She turned, let her legs dangle off the side of the bed as she tried to catch her breath. The nightmare- or was it a vision?- replayed in her mind. She let it, trying to catch details she’d missed through the curtain of fear the first time. 

Behind her, the bed shifted as Bucky rolled over. He bumped into something hard and opened his eyes, saw that Darcy’s sword was glowing softly in the center of the bed. Careful not to cut himself or Steve beside him, he set it on the bedside table and looked for her. 

She was sitting up, the sheets pooled around her hips, head lowered and back hunched defensively. Aegis was wrapped high around her bicep, golden head skimming gently across her shoulder. “Darcy? What’s wrong?” He had to call her name twice more before she glanced back at him with unfocused eyes. 

“What?” She shook her head, turned away again. “Nothing, sorry. Go back to sleep.” 

Steve was sitting up now, rubbing sleepily at his eyes. “Darce? What’s goin’ on?” 

“Just a… a nightmare, I think. It’s fine.” She tried not to flinch away from the shadows in the corners of the room, or the gentle touch to her back when it came. 

Steve sucked in a breath. “You’re cold.” He yanked a blanket from the foot of the bed and made to wrap it tightly around her. And then froze in place at the sight of deep red stains on her chest. “Are you bleeding?” He asked, low and urgent. He dropped the blanket, reaching for her shoulders to turn her towards him.

Darcy felt as though she were still in that odd dream-place, the strange in-between, the world moving too slow and too fast all at once around her. She looked down. 

Small red marks were splattered carelessly across her chest. She lifted a shaking hand to touch her tank top and paled when her fingers came away stained with blood. 

She stared down at her hand. Glanced up, saw Bucky kneeling on the floor at her feet watching her with wide-eyed concern… and the grey-eyed owl blinking solemnly at her from the window. The soft noises of rain hitting the roof and window seemed far too loud, suddenly.

Darcy swallowed hard. “What does it mean?” She asked the bird, voice hoarse with sleep and fear. Steve followed her gaze, frowning when the owl took flight into the rainy night. He flicked on a lamp, light spilling across the room and chasing the shadows back. 

“Darcy? Baby, can you look at me?” Gentle hands guided her face to his. She felt his gaze like a jolt to the system and took her first real breath since waking. It was like breaking from an airless room, surfacing from invisible hands dragging her under water. 

“Fuck,” she choked out. Her hand curled into a fist, blood smearing across her palm. Just like the dream. “Fuck, I don’t know what that was about.” Her pulse hammered in her throat.

“Sorry,” she added belatedly. They both looked spooked, tension riding across their bodies. 

Bucky splayed his hands across her thighs, offering comfort and warmth in one simple gesture. “You don’t have to apologize,” he reminded her patiently. The way he did every time she broke free from a nightmare, with quiet understanding and shared sorrow. 

Empathy went a long way on nights like these. 

But this… this was different. The blood on her hands proved that. She felt Steve move, wrap around her from behind with a firm arm around her waist, his legs bracketing hers. Letting her lean on him. Sharing his strength. 

It gave her the courage she needed to open her hand again. 

Bucky stared down at her bloody fingers. “I don’t understand.” 

Darcy swallowed hard. “I had a nightmare. Or a vision, maybe, I’m not sure.” 

“Were you bleeding in the nightmare?” He asked evenly. She could hear the undercurrent of worry in his voice, saw his concern in the furrowed brow, the tight line of his mouth. 

“No. Not me.” 

“What did you see?” Steve asked quietly. His bare torso was a furnace at her back, radiating enough heat to chase away the last of the chill in her bones. 

“I… don’t know,” she said, slow and deliberate. “A new kind of monster, I think.” She thought of the pulsing heart in its hand, the ease in which it sniffed her out. “And magic. Lots of it.” 

Was it a vision from Athena? Some kind of warning? The aura of sheer power from the creature scared her badly. She’d never seen anything like it before. 

A shimmer in the air made her tense, reaching instinctively for her sword with blood-stained fingers. But it was only an Iris Message forming in the space between the lamp and the rain-streaked window. 

Aya’s face swam into view, blurry for a few prolonged moments before solidifying. It was a message, not an open channel, so Darcy stopped grasping blindly for her weapon. 

“Darcy. This message should reach you whenever you wake.” The child of Aphrodite paused, their beautiful features twisting into an expression of disguised uncertainty. “There is something I wanted to bring to your attention... something best explained in person. When you have a free moment, please send me a message.” With that, the message dissolved. 

“Well.” Darcy blinked at the place where the message had just been. “That was hardly reassuring.” She glanced at the clock, winced, and then dragged her aching body off the bed. 

“You aren’t going now are you?” Steve asked incredulously. 

She shrugged. “It’s already five. Might as well stay up.” She sure as fuck wouldn’t be getting any more sleep after that nightmare. Darcy padded into the bathroom to wash her hands. She sucked in a breath at her reflection in the huge mirror hanging above the sinks. 

Her hair was a mess, framing her face in wild waves that only made her eyes look huge, wounded, against the stark white of her face. Bruises beneath her eyes shadowed her face. Her tank top strap slid down one shoulder, the thin material clinging tightly to her body. It was a cheerful light blue- so that the blood stood out all the more. 

The marks started between her collarbones, scattered across her upper chest, dripped down to her abdomen. They were streaks of blood, thick and viscous. She absently wiped one away and then froze. They’d burned at first contact, she remembered. Hurt her, the blood far too hot against the ice and wind that had frozen her straight through to the bone. 

She wiped another drop away and felt sick. Another small white scar remained in its place. She heard the quiet murmur of voices from the bedroom. They sounded worried. Darcy gave up, yanked her tank top off, tossed it into the trash, and turned on the shower. The sound of running water made the conversation pause. 

Steve stuck his head in through the door to check on her. She kept her back turned, sliding her underwear down her hips. “Darce? You okay, baby?” 

She shot a close-mouthed smile over her shoulder, quick enough that he wouldn’t see how it didn’t reach her eyes. “Fine. Just still cold.” She didn’t want to consider the implications of the blood, let alone the faint scars it left behind. 

_ Marked, _ she remembered it saying. She was marked. 

Darcy showered quickly, watched the blood swirl off her body and down the drain in the pink-tinged water. The pale white scars were small and rounded like teardrops, streaked from collarbones to her belly. Everywhere the blood had dripped she was marked. 

She slipped into the empty bedroom and rifled through her section of the closet, braiding her hair absently as she considered the best options for hiding the marks. She pulled on jeans, an army green tank top that fastened high around her throat, and found her leather jacket by the front door. 

Bucky frowned after her from where he and Steve stood, leaning against each other in the dark, quiet kitchen. “Darce?” They were making coffee and probably breakfast, but the thought of either made her stomach turn unpleasantly. 

“Just going to meet Aya,” she reassured them. “I’ve got a busy day, might as well start now. See you tonight!” Darcy felt a little bad about her quick exit as she jogged down the stairs and onto the street. But she needed to work through the nightmare first, wanted time to process it, pick it apart before she spoke about it. Try and form a hypothesis. And from there, a plan to deal with whatever came after them next. 

This was demigod business, that much she knew. And it was hard to justify dragging the loves of her life into every bullshit nightmare and issue that cropped up. She wanted them to  _ stay, _ didn’t she? Besides that, once they were involved with her long enough, these things would start to affect them as well. They had enough nightmares on their own  _ without _ the influence of gods and monsters.

As she walked down the streets of early-morning New York, hands shoved in the pockets of her beloved leather jacket, Darcy thought of the SPQR tattoo branded on her forearm. Thought of the army that had come when she’d asked, the Praetor that risked it all on her faith in Darcy. 

Reyna would be up soon. It was just approaching 2:30 in the morning in California, but the Praetor of the Roman demigod army woke obscenely early for her workouts. All of Camp Jupiter woke early, actually. Reyna just woke first. 

Darcy considered, then decided to wait. She’d see what Aya had for her first. Because Reyna had also, the last she’d heard, been in the early stages of a relationship with Adrian’s sister Kaori. It’d probably be awkward if she interrupted something. 

Especially if it was about a demonic monster that had enough magic to reach her through a vision. Talking to Reyna would certainly help- she was the daughter of another war goddess, extremely logical and intelligent- but she didn’t need to burden her friend with it quite yet. 

In the meantime, she stepped into a quiet alley and fished a golden drachma (the Ancient Greek currency that demigods always kept on hand) and returned Aya’s message. 

Instead of asking for Iris, though, Darcy requested the cloud nymph Fleecy, who could create an open, active channel for her rather than the recorded messages. The nymph chirped happily as she opened the connection, gossiping about the latest trysts with the dryads in Central Park and the feud with the water nymphs in the Hudson River. 

Aya’s face swam into view. They looked a little alarmed at the rapid-fire speed of Fleecy’s chatter. “Thanks, Fleecy,” Darcy said when the onslaught slowed, mouth quirked into a smile. Fleecy disappeared with a friendly wave, leaving the connection open between Darcy and Aya, who smiled at her. 

“Hello, Darcy. I assume you got my message, then?” 

“Yeah. Sorry to call so early.” She edged further back into the alley when the flow of people increased- NYC waking for another day. 

“It’s not a problem. I was already up.” Aya tilted their head, hair dyed a purple so dark it was almost black. Aya’s eyes were a hypnotizing myriad of colors, similar to Aphrodite’s own. It was as unnerving as it was captivating. Their face was made up of delicate bone structure, a full mouth that smiled often, and a barely visible scar along the left side of their jaw. 

“So what is it that you need to tell me?” 

Aya shook their head. “In person. I don’t trust Iris messages, not after Eris hijacked them last year.” 

Darcy tipped her head, conceding the point. It wasn’t like Aya was wrong. They’d never figured out exactly which nymph had helped Eris spy on Iris messages and likely never would. Nymphs were impossible to pin down, and even harder to distinguish apart from each other. She’d accepted it a year ago, warned the other demigods, and let it go. 

But she didn’t forget. And it seemed Aya hadn’t, either. 

“Where do you want to meet? I can go wherever.” 

Aya bit the corner of their mouth. “Best you come to my apartment. For privacy.” Darcy wondered at the odd, shifty expression on Aya’s typically neutral face. Then she remembered Adrian’s brother, Thais, had been spending a lot of time at their apartment. 

For “security purposes,” as if that fooled anyone. Amused, Darcy accepted and dispersed the message with a wave of her hand. With her sword hidden in her pocket, the Aegis curled around her wrist, and the sun creeping over the horizon, Darcy set off to meet Aphrodite’s deadliest child. 


	4. Chapter 4

Darcy had been to Aya’s apartment a handful of times in the past year, but it still managed to fill her with awe and a little envy. Filled with natural light from the floor-to-ceiling windows along the far wall, it was bright and open and friendly- but still classy. Darcy admired the black marble floors, the shallow stairs dipping into a huge seating area in the center of the room. Understated and elegant, so similar to the slender demigod smiling at her from the kitchen. 

Aya wore black fitted slacks and a muted red satin shirt that made their bronze skin appear to glow. Their makeup turned their face into a masterpiece of shadows and sharp angles, an exemplary archetype of androgynous beauty. “That was fast.” 

Darcy shrugged. “I was already out.” 

“At five am?” Aya’s face showed nothing, their tone only mild surprise without appearing probing. Darcy knew them well enough at this point to understand Aya asked from the standpoint of a friend, not a demigod spy. 

“Long story. I’ll get back to you once I figure out where the hell to even start.” She rubbed her hands over her face, tired but still horribly on edge from the nightmare-vision-whatever-the-hell. 

“Ah.” Aya made a face. “One of those?” 

“Oh, yeah.” 

Aya poured coffee into a mug and slid it across the table to her. “Let me know if I can help.” 

“Thanks, Aya.” Before she could continue, a door opened within the apartment. Thais padded across the room, sleepy-eyed and smiling fondly at Aya. “Hey, babe. Get what you need from your job last night?” 

“I did.” Aya smiled down at their drink when he paused to press a kiss to their cheekbone before moving towards the fridge. Thais was Adrian’s half brother- they shared Hestia as their godly parent though each looked more like their human mothers. 

Thais was shorter than Adrian, just reaching 5’5, and chubby with skin as dark as his African-American mother’s. He’d decided to stay in New York after the battle with Eris, transferring to the university to get his PhD in romance languages. 

He also freelanced for Marley sometimes, too, to help pay for school. Being a child of Hestia meant his protective gifts were in high demand, and Marley always made sure to find him jobs that paid well. 

Darcy huffed a laugh when Thais paused, back up a few steps and stared at her through bleary eyes. “Darcy? What are you doing here so early?” 

“I have information for her,” Aya explained. 

But Thais kept frowning at Darcy. She shifted on her stool, aware that Hestia’s kids could read emotions with their alarmingly accurate intuition. Whatever he could read off of her made his eyes widen. “Whoa. Do you need a hug?” He asked when she had to shrug the tension out of her shoulders for the third time that morning. 

Her response was automatic. “I’m fine.” 

He rolled his eyes. “I’m offering you a  _ literal _ magic hug, Lewis. Shut up and get over here.” 

Darcy considered. If Adrian were within arm’s reach, she wouldn’t hesitate. “Yeah, okay,” she admitted. “I had a bad night.” 

Thais didn’t push, just wrapped her up in a comforting hug and sent waves of serenity rippling across the room. It took the edge of panic off, chipping away at the block of ice that seemed to have settled across her lungs during the episode. 

“Thanks,” she muttered, no longer feeling quite so strung out. 

He patted her on the back. “No problem. Go sit down, I’ll make us breakfast.” Darcy sighed but obeyed. She’d never been so aggressively  _ older-brothered _ until she met Thais. Aya watched him fondly before turning back to Darcy. 

“What do you know,” they asked, “about the structure of the Underworld?” 

“Uh.” Darcy leaned back, sipped her drink. “You mean like the general layout or the command structure?” 

“Command structure,” Aya said, a smile playing at the corner of their mouth. 

“Good, because I have no fucking clue about the other thing.” She thought for a moment. “Hades and Persephone rule it, obviously.” 

“The King and Queen of the Underworld, yes.” 

“The Underworld is where souls of the dead go when they die.” Darcy kicked her feet absently against the bottom rung of the stool, thinking back to her early lessons at Camp Half-Blood. “The Judges of the Underworld decide where the souls go. I don’t remember who they are, though.” 

Aya leaned a hip against the counter. “That’s complicated, so it’s no wonder you don’t remember.” They paused, smiled gratefully when Thais slid two plates with huge omelets across the table for both of them. “Originally, there was a panel of three living judges that decided the fates of mortals right before they died. But, as you can imagine, this didn’t go as planned.” 

Thais shook his head. “The greed of men is infinite, the greed of gods more so. How could they forget that?” 

“Blasphemer,” Aya said, affectionate. “But yes, that’s exactly what went wrong.” 

“The judges accepted bribes,” Darcy recalled. “Bribes from the living to sneak them into Elysium.” Elysium, the place in the afterlife reserved for the best mortal souls, heroes, and demigods who had died a hero’s death and lived a good life. They would remain after death to live a blessed eternal afterlife. 

Far better than the Fields of Punishment, where the wicked and evil faced eternal punishments for their crimes. In the words of Percy Jackson, who’d witnessed the Fields firsthand: "Imagine your worst fear. Now imagine it being ten times worse. Now imagine living that fear forever." 

And also a better fate than the Fields of Asphodel. Also known as the Asphodel Meadows, a section of the Underworld where indifferent or ordinary souls who lived a life of neither good nor evil were sent to live after death. The majority of all souls went to these Fields, and were required to drink from the River Lethe before entering. They lost their memories, their identities, everything that made them a person. 

The system was flawed, and definitely stupid, but had existed and operated as such for centuries. Gods didn’t like change. She doubted the King of the Underworld would appreciate her informing him that his life’s work was stupid. 

“That’s right. Evil souls began polluting Elysium and the heroic and righteous souls were sent to the Fields of Punishment, until Hades took over.” 

Darcy nodded, her lessons coming back to her now. “Then Hades suggested to Zeus that the judges be replaced with a panel of spirits that he commanded. That way they couldn’t be influenced.” 

“And to judge the souls after they entered the Underworld, so as to avoid that pesky bribery problem,” Thais said cheerfully. 

“Zeus agreed, but only if the judges were all his own dead demigod sons.” They all took a moment to roll their eyes. Typical fucking Zeus. 

“Hades had no real argument as to why not, other than  _ ‘because fuck you,’” _ Darcy said. 

Aya laughed softly. “That’s right. He appointed former kings- Minos, Aiakos, and Rhadamanthys- and established the Judgement Pavilion.” 

“It’s a mistake to let a panel of men decide anything,” Darcy muttered. 

“Ain’t that the fuckin’ truth,” Thais said. Aya saluted with their mug in agreement.

“Regardless, the Judges of the Underworld direct the souls to one of the three final resting places. But before that, do you know how the souls first arrive at the Underworld?” 

Darcy snapped her fingers as a vague memory surfaced. “The Ferryman. Whatshisface.” 

“Charon,” Aya provided, amused. “The Spirit of Boundaries and Territories. He’s a son of Nyx. And yes, he is the ferryman that transports the souls of the newly deceased across the River Styx, which divides the world of the living from the dead. But before the souls even reach Charon, another being collects the souls for him. They’re called reapers.” 

Thais waved his fork around. “They reap the souls of the dead, bag ‘em, and dump ‘em at Charon’s feet for transport.” 

“It is slightly more dignified than that,” Aya said, “but essentially yes.” 

Darcy frowned. “So this information…” 

“Is regarding a reaper,” Aya confirmed. “A dead one.” 

“Aren’t they… already dead?” 

“They aren’t  _ alive _ in any mortal sense, but they still exist and function as… we’ll define them as spirits, of a sort. Which is more concerning, because one has been killed. Murdered, actually.” 

Darcy set her cup down and sat upright. “Who has the capability to murder a reaper? You just said they’re  _ spirits.” _

“I don’t know.” Aya tapped their fingers anxiously on the table, worry lines creasing their forehead. “And my source said that the souls the reaper had gathered were stolen.” 

“Stolen? How could they possibly know that?” 

“They’re…” Aya hesitated. “Darcy, no one can know what I’m about to tell you.” 

“I swear it on the River Styx,” Darcy said immediately. “I won’t tell anyone.” This was obviously crucial, delicate information. That Aya was even considering sharing it with her meant a lot. And by swearing it on the River Styx, Darcy showed just how seriously she took her promise. Because oaths made by the river left unfulfilled brought something worse than death to the Oath Bearer. No one knew exactly what, but the threat was enough. 

“Another reaper told me. This cannot be shared- reapers are not supposed to interact with the living, not  _ ever.” _

“Then why did this one talk to you?” 

“They’re worried. There’s something out there that can kill a reaper, but there’s enough of them that no one will notice the loss of one.” 

“Those lost souls, though…” 

“They won’t make it to the Underworld for judgement. I don’t know their fate, and neither did the reaper.” 

Darcy mulled over this new information. Missing souls, murdered reapers. The strange monster from her dream. The scars on her chest. She considered showing Aya the marks from her dream, asking if the spy had ever heard of such a thing. 

But something stopped her. She didn’t know what, didn’t know why she felt so obligated to keep the wounds a secret. The implications of the scars were something she didn’t want to consider. Or maybe she just didn’t want to talk about it yet- which felt like the most reasonable explanation. 

She wasn’t even sure that she could  _ talk _ about it, let alone explain what had happened. The nightmare had deeply unsettled her, struck fear in her very soul. That creature was something demonic, unholy and evil. 

“I was unsure how to proceed,” Aya told her. “And considering your success with Eris, and the other dozen issues you’ve handled since then, I thought it might be best to speak with you first.” 

“The Defender of New York,” Thais said solemnly. 

“Don’t start,” Darcy warned. She turned to Aya. “Thank you for sharing this with me. I’d rather know these kinds of things than not.” So she could find the source of the unrest and root it out before it became deadly. So she could warn her kids, her friends and family. 

And, since this involved matters of the Underworld, she’d take this to either Nico or Hazel. As children of Hades (and the Roman Pluto, on Hazel’s part), they would have a better understanding of the implications of a murdered reaper and lost souls. Now she just needed to figure out which one was close enough to New York to help her.

That decided, she pushed her stool back and stood. “I’m going to look into this. I’ll keep you updated.” 

“Much appreciated, Darcy. It’s a relief to have someone to share this with, rather than handling it all on my own.” That made Darcy pause.

“I probably don’t want to know all the threats you’ve taken down before we ever even met, do I?” 

Aya shrugged. “Probably not. Just know that I take care of the little things and pass off the major stuff to you so you know what’s important. Between the two of us we can manage demigod affairs in the city.” 

“And you called  _ me _ the defender of New York,” Darcy scolded Thais. Aya ducked their head to hide a pleased smile. “Thanks again, Aya. I’ll update you later,” Darcy said, and showed herself out. 

~*~ 

A dead reaper, a new monster, and Natasha disappearing for four weeks straight. What were the odds that none of that was connected? 

Yeah, she sighed to herself. Slim to none. 

Darcy fired off a text to Clint, who’d been radio silent for four days. He’d been keeping to a three day check-in schedule, though his updates went from minor details to “not dead.” It worried her. Something was going on, something that started from the message that had made Natasha’s eyes go hard and cold, her fear great enough to stop her dead in her tracks. 

She changed directions, headed for Stark Tower rather than wandering aimlessly through the city. The walk helped clear her head, gave her time to sort through all of the new information and the old, piecing it all together. Or trying to, anyway. 

She just didn’t  _ know _ enough to make sense of it all. 

The doors to Tony’s lab slid open as she approached, thanks to Jarvis monitoring her progress through the tower. She saluted the closet camera and stepped into the lab just in time to see one of the suits go careening across the room at top speed and crash spectacularly into the far wall. 

“Huh.” Tony stared after it. She recognized the slight disappointment on his face, quickly overcome by that brilliant mind whirring to life, working the problem, the solution, how to fix it. He never got caught up in the problems or the failures- only in the solutions he just hadn’t figured out yet. Darcy admired the hell out of him. 

“Have they finally risen against you in your very own robot army?” She asked, crossing the room to join him. 

He turned to her as she approached, still distracted by the delinquent suit, and then grinned appreciatively when her words caught up to him. “Not yet, but Jarvis assures me it’s coming one day soon.” 

“Hey, Dad.” She hugged him as Dum-E helpfully sprayed the prone iron suit with a fire extinguisher somewhere across the lab. She glanced around the organized chaos of Tony’s lab, wary of another suit deciding to suddenly relocate in rebellion.

“Hey, kid.” He smiled, unguarded with her in a way he only was with Pepper or Rhodey. She was struck yet again by how much that meant to her, their new relationship and the effort he put into it. The care and love he showed her, things she’d been so long without from a parental figure. 

Athena was all about discipline and courage, war and wisdom that she expected from her children. Having a father that treated her like something precious went a long way towards healing some of Darcy’s oldest wounds. 

Tony brushed a hand over her hair, shrewd eyes narrowing. “What’s wrong?” 

Darcy shook her head. “How can you read me so well?” She wondered. 

“Genius,” he reminded her smugly. 

“Uh huh.” She sighed, sat on a nearby stool and braced her hands on the seat between her legs when it wobbled. “Just potential demigod problems. We’ll see what it turns into.” She tried to erase the troubled note in her voice. 

He wasn’t fooled. “What kind of problems?” 

“The murder kind, what else?” 

Tony grinned in response while he typed a few rapid commands onto the nearest Stark pad. The suit reassembled with such obvious reluctance that it made her laugh. 

“Yeah, yeah, laugh it up. It won’t be funny when this stupid thing drops me straight out of the sky.” 

“Then don’t  _ fly _ in it yet. Gods, Dad. I thought you were a genius.” She rolled her eyes even as he tried to hide the pleased smile on his face. 

“Brat.” He tugged on her braid as he moved to the platform where the suit now stood. Crouching down in front of it, tools in hand, Dum-E and Butterfingers rolling over to assist, he asked, “Did you need something, or did you just come to hang out?” 

His tone told her that he was happy to see her either way, which made her feel better about asking, “Have you heard from Nat or Clint lately? Clint missed their check in yesterday. It was an unofficial schedule, but still.” 

Tony had pulled away from his work to listen. “No, but I bet I can track his phone. They’ve been gone for a while.” 

Darcy bit the corner of her mouth. “Let’s not go there yet. Like I said, our check ins weren’t official so maybe they just ended up in Budapest again or something. In which case I’ll be very offended, because Nat definitely said I could go with her next time.” 

Tony laughed. “Do not go to Budapest with Natasha, I’ve heard the stories.” 

“Me too, that’s why I want to go.” She grinned. “Anyway, just keep it on your radar- oh. Hello.” She watched the shower of flower petals cross the room, a vaguely humanoid shape approaching from the door in a solemn procession. Tony looked alarmed, reaching instinctively for a weapon. He stopped when she shook her head at him. 

The nymph halted in front of Darcy as she told Tony, “She’s- he’s? Sorry, he’s just an anthousai. A flower nymph.” The spring nymph had long hair of shedding flower petals, its body a fascinating mesh of vines, leaves, and stalks. Flowers bloomed all over its form, giving it a dizzying array of color. 

“A flower nymph lives in my tower?” Tony asked slowly. 

“On your tower, technically. I told him he could live in the rooftop garden. Why do you think it looks so good?” The nymph was slow, tired, the seasons changing to fall and nudging the nature spirit closer towards its winter hibernation. 

Darcy waited patiently, giving him the time he needed to communicate with her. The rooftop garden, while impressive, was also smaller than this one was used to. This anthousai was young, sleepy, and likely high on the “special” section of the garden. “He won’t hurt anything. He’s young and wants to be close to where the fun is, in his own words.” 

The anthousai finally dragged a small piece of paper out of the tangle of vines on one hand. Darcy accepted it, thanked him, and promised to bring winter blooming flowers to help him remain conscious longer throughout the approaching cold season so as not to miss any of the fun. 

Darcy skimmed the note and frowned. “What is it?” Tony asked, keeping one wary eye on the anthousai as he left. 

“A message from Nico. I guess he heard about…” She glanced up, saw Tony’s attention sharpen when her sentence trailed off. “Nothing. It doesn’t matter.” She hopped off the stool, pressed a kiss to his cheek, and made for the door. “I’ll tell you later, Dad, promise!” She glanced back to find him watching her with fond exasperation before the door closed between them. 


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You guys have all been really nice with your comments & support so here's an extra update <3
> 
> I'll post the next one this weekend :)

In terms of sheer power, children of the Big Three- Zeus, Poseidon, and Hades- were the most impressive of the demigods. Jason and Thalia Grace, both children of Zeus, had extraordinary abilities, including the control over lightning. Percy Jackson, of course, could command massive bodies of water to do his bidding and he only grew stronger with every passing year. 

But Nico di Angelo just might be the most powerful demigod alive. 

He was a son of Hades, and with that came great gifts- and great pain. Nico and his older sister Bianca were born in Italy in 1936 to Maria di Angelo, one of Hades’ few mortal lovers. Their mother died in a lightning strike sent by Zeus in an attempt to kill all three of them. But Hades shielded his two children with an impenetrable wall of black energy, too late to save Maria. 

Devastated, Hades sent one of the Furies, Alecto, to bathe Nico and Bianca in the River Lethe to wash away their memories. He then placed them in the Lotus Hotel and Casino, a place that terrified Darcy and many other demigods. The Lotus Hotel and Casino froze time for everyone within it. Nico and Bianca, before they were removed by the Fury, spent 70 years inside of it- and they believed it had only been one month. 

Thrown into a new century, a young Nico adapted as best he could. But his sister Bianca died soon after on a quest and he lost the last person that mattered to him. Darcy knew from Annabeth- her half-sister, another of Athena’s chosen daughters- that Nico went from a bright, friendly young boy to quiet, wounded, and angry.

At only eleven years old, he became known throughout the Underworld as the Ghost King, a title taken from King Midas, for his unparalleled command over souls and the dead. And he only became more notorious from there. 

Not too long ago when Gaea, the primordial goddess of the earth, tried to rise, Nico tried to locate the Doors of Death for a quest involving multiple demigods. During his search in the Underworld, he was pulled in by dark gravity from a pit to the deepest, darkest part of the Underworld.

He fell into Tartarus, where monsters and enemies of the gods were banished. 

During that horrifying journey through Tartarus, Nico encountered Akhlys, the goddess of misery. Based off of awed, whispered rumors circling both demigod camps, the goddess was impressed at the pain and sorrow Nico carried and declared that there was little more she could do to him. And then he had suffered alone through Tartarus until captured and held prisoner by the largest army of monsters their world had ever seen. 

How he had retained his sanity after that, Darcy didn’t know. Nico had a tremendous, virtually indomitable willpower that got him through Tartarus and the horrors witnessed and subjected to there. 

So his reputation grew, became legend, and most still viewed him with fear for his parentage and demigod gifts. But Darcy remembered Hestia speak of Nico, of how he was the first camper to ever speak to her during her many days spent at Camp Half-Blood. The obvious affection Hestia held for Nico affected the opinions of everyone within Darcy’s own house. 

She wondered with some amusement whether Nico knew how many demigods would go to the mat for him, without question or hesitation for a kindness he likely didn't even remember. 

Not that he needed much support. His powers were extraordinary. Nico could control the earth to a limited degree, could tear open the ground and cause minor earthquakes. He could call on an army of undead at will, summon and release souls, control skeletons and limited fire as well. 

Reyna had once told her of the time that Nico turned a demigod enemy into a ghost and banished him through sheer force of will. He could control darkness and shadows, create impenetrable shields out of them, and even teleport between shadows throughout the world. 

He was arguably the most dangerous of them all, a lethal fighter and a master of death. 

Darcy neared Central Park, wandered through the paths lined with orange and red leaves. The city was on the brink of fall turning to winter, of the soft chill on the air becoming something sharper, harsher. She shivered, the memory of the dream surfacing again. 

Nico came into sight when she was deep within the park. The son of Hades wore dark jeans, a white Ramones T-shirt, and a black leather bomber jacket that hid the surprisingly lean, muscled build. He had pale olive skin, dark hair, and an aura of death that never faded. 

Last she remembered, he was Pluto’s Ambassador and a Senator in the Roman camp and city where his boyfriend, Will Solace, worked as one of the most talented healers in living memory. Will was a son of Apollo, technically Shay’s paternal half brother. 

At this point, demigods had so many half-siblings it was impossible to keep track. Other than the children of the Big Three, who took an oath to have no more demigod children because they were too powerful, each demigod could be expected to have no fewer than ten half-siblings. She’d lost track of most of her own, had stopped interacting with them entirely after Quinn died. 

“Darcy,” Nico said in greeting when she joined him by a cluster of purple-leaved trees as requested, his brown eyes as serious as they always were. “I got your message.” 

She paused. “My message?” Nico held up a piece of paper, a replica of the one she’d received from him earlier. Darcy immediately reached for her sword, let the Aegis wind its way out of her pocket where he’d been napping. “I didn't send that. I came because here I got your message that asked me to meet you here.” 

Nico glanced around them suspiciously for the trap, moving automatically into position at her back. “Wait a second,” he said suddenly. “There’s an entrance to-” 

The ground gave way beneath them.

Darcy yelped, tumbling headlong down a steep incline. Aegis tightened like a vise around her wrist, ready at her command to spring into action. She tucked her head and her wrist in, curled her body protectively around them as they fell and fell and fell. 

They landed in a heap in dirt the color of charcoal. Darcy sat up, bruised and disgruntled. Beside her, Nico was muttering curses under his breath, looking supremely irritable. A menacing shadow fell over them, one that brought goosebumps to Darcy’s skin. Nico didn’t bother looking up, busy impatiently brushing his clothes off, but she did. 

Green eyes glittered in the darkness above them, pleased with the prey dumped right at their feet. Darcy swallowed hard as the figure leaned forward out of the shadows. 

The Queen of the Underworld bared her teeth in a grin and said with satisfaction, “Welcome, Darcy Lewis. I’ve been waiting for you.” 

~*~ 

“Was that really necessary?” Nico demanded. He stood, offered Darcy a hand to help her to her feet. She took it, wincing at the aches and sharp pains making themselves known from her spectacular fall. 

Persephone eyed Nico with annoyance. “Yes. You’ve been ignoring me, brat.” 

“If you weren’t such a pain in the ass, maybe I wouldn’t have to ignore you!” Nico seemed unaffected by the goddess’s obvious aggravation. While she was distracted arguing with Nico, Darcy took the time to study the Queen of the Underworld. 

Persephone, she recalled, had once been named Kore. She’d been renamed by Zeus after her venture into the Underworld and subsequent marriage to Hades- from “maiden” to “the one who brings chaos.” Because despite modern translations of her story, Persephone had walked cheerfully into the Underworld and decided to stay. Hades had been politely baffled but accepted it, until Demeter caused the uproar about her daughter’s kidnapping. 

Chaos bringer was an apt name, Darcy thought somewhat hysterically. Persephone had skin as black as night, eyes so vividly green they seemed to glow, and lips as purple as the pomegranate fruit she was so well known for. Wild, springy curls framed a face with wide, strong lines. Tall and regal, she wore a dress of pastel colors that had real flowers blooming and growing on the train before Darcy’s eyes. The goddess had green veins of curling, winding vines tattooed across her dark skin that moved sinuously with every movement she made. 

Look, all of the gods were scary. They all had unfathomable potential for murder and violence. But Persephone had something huge leashed inside of her, something that was more dangerous than Darcy had ever seen before. Something that scared her, especially standing two feet away from the Queen of the Dead. 

“Darcy Lewis,” Persephone drawled, turning her attention away from a vexed Nico. Those green eyes fixed on her, saw straight through her. “You’ve certainly been a fascinating one to watch.” 

“So I’ve heard,” Darcy said. She felt Aegis poke his head out of her jacket sleeve, tongue tasting the air before he lifted his head to blink curiously at the goddess.

Persephone stared at the snake for a long moment. “Interesting,” she murmured finally. “Yes, you’ll do just fine.”

Nico narrowed his eyes at his stepmother. “What do you mean, she’ll do just fine?”

“For a quest, of course,” Persephone said airily. Darcy felt the blood drain from her face.

“You’re not supposed to kidnap demigods for quests, you know this, Seph!” Nico said, voice rising. 

“This is important,” Persephone snapped. “And no one else on Mount Olympus seems interested in doing a damned thing, so I will act before we are all ruined.” Nico subsided, sharing a worried glance with Darcy. 

“What are you talking about?” Darcy asked quietly. 

Persephone’s mouth tightened. “Follow me.” 

They had no other choice. Well, Nico did- he presumably spent plenty of time in the Underworld and would be able to find his way back to the surface. But Darcy didn’t want to be left behind in the realm of the dead, so she hurried after the goddess. 

They passed Hades’ dwelling, an enormous palace modeled after Mount Olympus, as Hades was only permitted to visit the home of the gods on the Winter Solstice and the occasional near-end of the world. 

It was made of glittering black obsidian, the polished bronze floor just visible past the entrance. Skeleton servants and guards milled throughout the palace. In front of the palace, though, was a garden so magnificent that Darcy gasped in awe. 

Persephone’s Garden, a gift from her husband filled with her favorite plants and flowers. Strange luminous plants that grew without sunlight, beautiful subterranean trees glowing in the dark and white birch trees soaring into the air like slender pillars of marble. Darcy identified poisonous shrubs and multi-colored mushrooms. In the center of the garden was an orchard of pomegranate trees, its fruit smelling overwhelmingly sweet-tart, and their orange blossoms neon bright in the dark. A brook twined through the middle of the garden. 

As odd as the lack of normal flowers was, the precious jewels scattered throughout were far stranger. Darcy saw clumps of raw diamonds and piles of rubies as big as an human adult's fist, crystal trees and flower beds that overflowed with golden plants and gemstones. The paths were sculpted with rubies and topaz. Medusa's garden statues of petrified men, satyrs, and centaurs smiled grotesquely throughout the garden. Skeletal trees grew from marble basins, and flowers bloomed bloodred and ghost white. 

A dark veranda overlooked the garden wherein a silver throne rested, a table, and a shadow fountain in the corner. A pair of thrones, one bone and one silver, sat on the balcony with a view of the garden and the fields beyond. 

They walked for twenty minutes past the massive, sprawling garden. Persephone’s face softened every time she looked at it. Nico just wrinkled his nose at a statue of a beady-eyed gnome and ignored the rest, apparently used to the spectacular sights within the garden. 

He caught Darcy looking at him, read her surprise. “It’s less impressive after some of the plants have tried to eat you for the fourth time in a row,” he said dryly. 

“If you would quit sneaking in to steal, they wouldn’t try to eat you,” Persephone said with annoyance. 

Nico shrugged. “I never know if I’ll need to go into another death trance. Your pomegranate seeds can keep me alive for days without food or water.” 

“It’s so depressing that you know that,” Darcy told him. 

“Tell me about it,” he said with a scowl. She was distracted by a flash of movement. There was a dark shape skulking alongside them, darting to cover every time Darcy tried to look straight at it. Now that she thought about it, though, there were more things prowling across the decrepit landscape, haunting noises drifting across the open region as shadows crept closer and closer, growing braver with every uncontested pass. 

She half expected an attack at any moment. For something to spring out of a gloomy corner, or clawed hands to reach out of the earth and drag her under. Every noise, every movement was something sinister lurking in the Underworld, creatures too terrible to be allowed to walk the surface. 

Rustling and scritching sounds heard as though from inches away- but when she looked there was nothing near her. Broken moans, phantom touches on her neck and back, smoke and rust in the air. The hair on Darcy’s arms rose. Her mouth was suddenly dry. 

Nico sent a sharp glance over his shoulder, narrowed his eyes dangerously. She felt the temperature drop abruptly around them, their breath fogging the air. “Go away,” he said to the emptiness behind them. 

And suddenly the eerie sensations disappeared. Darcy felt the tightness in her chest ease, took a deep breath and let the tension in her shoulders fade as Nico let the brittle cold fade again. “What was that?” She murmured. 

“A ghost,” Nico said distractedly, scanning the area again. “One that hates me because I kicked his ass. He’s supposed to be banished.” 

“You banished him to the Underworld, Nico,” Persephone said archly. “Now he wanders around harassing the general population. Next time be more specific. Send them to the Fields of Punishment.” 

“This is why Dad says you’re the bloodthirsty one.” Nico rolled his eyes. “Besides, I was half dead at the time, so excuse me for not being perfect.” They started sniping at each other again. 

Darcy looked between him and Persephone, wondering at their dynamic. She’d heard that the Queen of the Underworld resented Nico because he was proof of Hades’ affair, but the familial overtone- bickering included- said otherwise. 

As though he’d read Darcy’s mind, Nico leaned in to mutter, “Later. Don’t ask now or she’ll start talking about it again.” His tone said that would be a very unfortunate thing. 

Persephone shot them a glance over her shoulder. “About what, Nico?” She asked sweetly. “Your father’s and my relationship with your mother?” 

“No,” he groaned, despondent. “These are not things I need or want to know, stop it.”

“She was a lovely woman, really. Very understanding, very… open to propositions.” 

“Stop,” Nico moaned.

“You and Hades have an open marriage?” Darcy blurted, because evidently she had a death wish. Convenient, considering where she was.

“We do not,” Persephone said while Nico dragged his hands over his face in evident misery. “Though occasionally a mortal catches our eye and we… invite them to join us. Both of us.” 

Darcy’s eyes widened. No wonder Nico didn’t want to hear this. Still, a part of her was entirely unsurprised. She’d heard that the rulers of the Underworld were happily married, but they were still Greeks. Though this was probably the least salacious thing a Greek god had ever been involved in. 

“Whoops,” Darcy said, biting back a laugh. “Sorry I asked.” 

Nico sighed. “How long is thing going to take, Seph? Will and I have a date.” 

Persephone looked around with interest. “Oh? Why didn’t you bring him along?” 

Nico threw his hands up. “Because you kidnapped us!” 

She tsked and waved a hand. “Semantics. I can bring him to us now, if you’d like.” Persephone raised a hand as if summoning Nico’s boyfriend would take nothing but a snap of her fingers.

“No,” Nico said immediately. “Last time he was here, you and dad monopolized him.” 

Persephone made an exasperated noise. “Honestly, Nico, you should be glad that we like him.” Nico replied in rapid-fire Italian, something that sounded immensely rude. Darcy tuned out their bickering, having just noticed the long-legged Doberman that trailed them. It was a familiar canine, tall and lanky with bright purple eyes watching her hopefully. 

The dog noticed her attention and bounded over as though that was all the invitation it needed, prancing along at her side with a lolling tongue. Darcy grinned down at Hekabe, the goddess Hecate’s companion, and ran a hand over the dog’s sleek black fur. 

“I told her no harm would come to Athena’s spawn,” Persephone told the dog sternly. “You didn’t have to come watch over her. Honestly, I’m a little offended.”

“Hecate knows I’m here?” Darcy asked, immediately feeling better about the entire situation. Hecate wouldn’t leave her to Persephone’s mercy. On that note, neither would Nico. She’d be okay. Probably. 

“She and Persephone are friends,” Nico explained. 

“And she thinks highly of you, Darcea. Highly enough that I agreed to share my concerns with a troublesome demigod, which never ends well.”

“Thanks, I think.”

“Don’t thank me yet. You haven’t seen why I’ve brought you here.” Persephone halted, let Darcy and Nico draw even with her before continuing. She gestured with one ring-covered hand to the black, desolate expanse stretching farther than Darcy could see.

Beside her, Nico stiffened and lost all of the color in his face. “This is wrong.”

“What is this?” She asked. She saw nothing but emptiness, knee-high grass the color of ink swaying in a nonexistent breeze. Something might have flickered at an extreme distance, but it was too far away to tell for sure.

“This is the realm of the dead, Darcy,” Persephone said gravely. “We are standing in the Fields of Asphodel, where billions of souls find their final resting place.”

Darcy looked around in confusion, spooked by the desolate wasteland, horror growing as realization set in. She clutched Hekabe’s fur to steady herself. “But it’s empty.”

Persephone met her gaze, somber. “Exactly.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dun dun dunnnnn. Things are about to get so crazy, you guys don't even know. Had to include one of my favorite goddesses ever (and demigods, since Nico is one of my favorite canon characters!)
> 
> Also, the descriptions of the garden came from the Riordan wiki page!


	6. Chapter 6

Darcy’s chest tightened at sight of Persephone’s grim expression. The goddess’s deep purple lips were pressed into a firm line as she studied the empty fields. 

“Nearly ten thousand souls gone, stolen from right underneath our noses,” she said. Her green eyes had darkened with her anger and Darcy saw thorns erupt from the tangle of flowers and vines along her dress. “The Fields of Asphodel hold billions of the dead. They are our responsibility,  _ our _ subjects. And someone has taken us for fools, as though we wouldn’t notice.” 

“When did this happen?” Nico asked, staring out at the Fields. 

“Only days ago,” Persephone said. She folded her hands over her stomach, the picture of regality. 

Nico glanced at his stepmother. “And Dad?” 

Persephone was silent for a heavy beat. The tumble of flowers on her dress darkened, turned bloodred and black. The bright vines tattooed on her pitch-black skin coiled, grew tight and thorny. “You understand that if we were to bring this to Zeus, he would use it as an excuse to declare his brother unfit for rule. Zeus would strip Hades of his realm, replace him with a puppet for Zeus’s own purposes.” 

Darcy knew very well the severity of the rivalry between the Big Three. Their constant power struggle, the extreme competitive nature that threatened a civil war every time they so much as stood in the same room. Zeus would love the opportunity to take his brother’s power away, and Poseidon would certainly not oppose a chance to humiliate Hades either. Persephone was right- they couldn’t risk telling anyone else. 

“What kind of creature or god could steal souls?” Darcy said. She jolted when realization struck. “And kill a reaper?”

Persephone turned to Darcy, her eyes sharp and probing. “How do you know about that?” 

“Why don’t  _ I _ know about that?” Nico asked, distressed. 

“A friend told me,” Darcy told Persephone carefully. “I can’t tell you anything else, I’m sorry. I swore it on the River Styx.”  

“This cannot get out,” Persephone hissed, looming. Hekabe whined and leaned against Darcy’s legs. “If anyone finds out about this-” 

Darcy shook her head. “It won’t. They brought it to me and only me.” 

“And trusted that you would take care of it?” The goddess asked, face unreadable now. “And you agreed to do everything in your power to stop the killer?” 

“I… We didn’t go quite that far, but it was probably understood.” By now, they all had to know the lengths she would go to in order to keep her family, her friends, safe. She’d lay down her life if that’s what was asked of her, as would most demigod children. They were all raised to be self-sacrificing and noble, which was kind of a terrible guideline for raising children and ended with countless deaths. 

And yet. Darcy wouldn’t hesitate. 

Persephone drew her shoulders back, seemed to grow ten feet before their eyes. “Then I will tell you the rest.” Her voice rang loudly in their ears, painful and physically jarring though Darcy suspected nothing would be overheard from their conversation. “Something has broken free from its cage, Darcea, something that can walk unnoticed between realms. Something that has not set foot on our shores ever before.” 

Unconsciously, Darcy’s hand raised slowly to the scars hidden beneath her shirt. Persephone’s eyes followed the motion and she nodded. “Yes. I believe your mother attempted to warn you with the vision. Had Hecate not interfered, though, the creature would very likely have been able to kill you, or even follow you through to your physical reality.” 

Breathing grew difficult at the mere thought. Persephone continued. “Whatever this is, it is not a deity. Otherwise we would know the presence of a foreign god on our shores. Which just means that we are limited in our capabilities to locate and kill it.” 

“How?” Nico asked. “One of you couldn’t just smite this thing the second it stepped onto US land?” 

“It isn’t here yet, but Athena and Hecate agree that it would be potentially disastrous,” Persephone said grimly. “”For now it sticks to the seas, somehow hiding from Poseidon’s sight.” 

“So you’re saying it can’t be magically killed by the gods?” Darcy felt as though every hair on her body stood on end at the thought of a monster so terrible not even the gods of Mount Olympus, who’d fought and destroyed  _ Titans, _ could kill it. 

“It must find a physical, permanent demise for it to truly die. Magic of any kind will only strengthen it.” The goddess saw Darcy’s mouth open and answered her unspoken question, “Some things you just know, Darcy, as a ruler of death.” 

“So if this monster gets its hands on a god…” Nico trailed off, uncertain and worried. 

“It is Hecate’s belief that it could feed off of the captured god and grow unstoppable.” 

Darcy shoved her hands into her pockets when they wanted to shake. “Which means you need a demigod to kill it.” 

“Yes, and quickly- I have a feeling that the souls it has stolen are for a terrible purpose. A demigod must destroy this monster.” Persephone twisted her wrist, opened her hand to reveal an obsidian rock that pulsed lightly with an ominous internal light. “A demigod using a Stygian Iron blade." She lifted the rock in invitation. "At your touch, this will become a sword best fitting for you.” 

Nico made a short motion at his waist, revealing a three-foot-long black sword hanging from his belt. Darcy sucked in a breath. The sword was black as a nightmare. It seemed to make the shadows around them even gloomier, as though it soaked the light and heat right out of the air. There was a faint, sinister purple glow coming from the blade itself. 

The material in Persephone’s hand had an iron chain wound around it. Nico stopped Darcy from peering closer with a hand on her arm, dragging her back. “No, don’t touch it.” He shot Persephone a fierce glare. “She can’t touch Stygian Iron or she’ll die. You know that.” 

“What?” Darcy asked, jerking away. She’d never heard about Stygian Iron, other than the well-known fact that Nico had a weird death sword. 

Nico tugged her back a few more steps before releasing her. “Stygian Iron is mined and forged in the Underworld and then cooled in the River Styx,” he explained, shooting Persephone another dark look. “It makes the blade clean and indestructible, but it also means that only children of Hades and Pluto are capable of wielding it.” Persephone only blinked at him, unconcerned with his righteous anger.

“A wound from it, even a scratch, would probably kill you,” Nico told Darcy. “Your weapons are made of Celestial Bronze and Imperial Gold, which destroy a monster’s physical form and returns their essence to Tartarus. But Stygian Iron absorbs the victim’s essence.” 

Holy  _ shit. _ “So a monster couldn’t reform if it was killed with Stygian Iron?” 

Nico nodded. “But it’s more dangerous. It literally drains the life force of its target until there’s nothing left, and then absorbs it into the blade. It’s why I can permanently kill even ghosts and shades. If  _ you _ were to try and wield it, the blade would most likely drain you. You don’t have the powers that Hazel-” his Roman paternal half-sister- “and I do.” 

“A sword that has the power to take the victim’s essence, it’s very  _ soul,” _ Persephone said, intense. “You see why such a weapon is necessary for this monster.” 

“I do,” Darcy said slowly. “But Nico just said that only children of Hades and Pluto can wield it.” 

“With the exception of a few powerful deities,” Persephone added nonchalantly. “And maybe even an invincible warrior.”

At that, Nico’s head snapped up. His eyes widened. “No,” he said flatly. “Don’t even consider it.”

“Consider what?” Darcy looked between them, heart racing. Something unspoken passed between the goddess and her stepson, a nonverbal argument that Persephone seemed to win. “I’m not a powerful deity or invincible,” she pointed out. “So I really don’t understand what this it about.” 

The Queen of the Underworld rested solemn green eyes on her. “There is one possible way for you to wield this weapon, Darcea Athana. But it is dangerous, deadly even, if it goes poorly. And even then you might be unable to use Stygian Iron.” 

Darcy glanced at Nico, saw him turn away with a tight expression. She understood one thing- this monster was coming for them all. It was strong enough to kill gods, had magic they’d never even  _ seen _ before, was capable of unimaginable horrors. 

Nico couldn’t be expected to face it alone. Besides that, another demigod with a weapon like this would increase their chances of success. 

Darcy met Persephone’s steady gaze. “What do I have to do?” 

Triumph flashed through the goddess’s eyes, there and gone so fast Darcy wondered if it had truly even been there at all. 

“Just one thing,” Persephone told her. Dread gripped Darcy hard as the goddess leaned in. “Bathe in the River Styx. Accept the Curse of Achilles, Darcea, and slay this monster before it kills us all.” 

~*~ 

When the Titan Kronos rose and attacked New York, Percy Jackson had taken the Curse of Achilles as a last resort to hold the Titan army at bay. 

Anyone bearing the Curse of Achilles became nearly invulnerable, except for one weak point on their body. They were also granted highly increased strength, speed, agility, reflexes, endurance, and fighting abilities. While bearing the curse, Percy was powerful enough to single-handedly defeat Hyperion, the Titan of light and fire, along with a hundred skeletal warriors created by Hades, and hundreds of monsters in the Titan army. 

So Darcy understood why the curse was necessary to fight the looming threat. Just as she understood why no one else had attempted to take the curse- or succeeded, if they had tried. If not done correctly, if the demigod were not strong enough, the River Styx would turn them to ash and they would be forever lost in a river of torment. 

“Nico instructed the last successful demigod to take the curse,” Persephone said. Darcy glanced at him- she hadn’t known that Nico instructed Percy, but wasn’t surprised. Percy wouldn’t have been able to take the curse, let alone get to the Underworld and survive, without him. Hades guarded the River Styx, and he wouldn’t let the son of his enemy saunter into his own realm and become powerful enough to kill a Titan.

“He almost died,” Nico shot back. “It almost didn’t work.” 

Persephone just shrugged. “Almost is the key word there, I believe.” 

_ “Almost _ isn’t exactly reassuring,” Darcy muttered. Her mind was whirling, spinning so fast she felt dizzy. 

The goddess made an impatient sound. “Percy Jackson was only sixteen years old when he took the curse, only a child. _He_ succeeded.” 

“He’s also one of the most powerful demigods in history,” Darcy pointed out. “He’s the son of Poseidon.” 

“Athena’s children are not worthy, then? Is that what you think?” Her face was pitying, but her tone said the question was a trap. 

Darcy sighed heavily. “No, that’s not what I’m saying. I just meant… in terms of raw power, Athena’s kids have-” 

“Genius level intellect,” Persephone interrupted. “Analytical and strategic skills, telumkinesis which gives you extreme proficiency with all weaponry, audiokinesis- everything you read or hear, you remember, and you are extremely persuasive. Is this not power?” 

It was, it definitely was, but Darcy couldn’t exactly command oceans or summon an army of the dead. 

“Your mother is the goddess of war,” Persephone said, drifting closer. “War and wisdom, courage and strategy. Everything you also possess in spades, as one of Athena’s chosen.” 

“It’s not that simple.” Nico turned back to them. He looked at Darcy, unhappy. “The River Styx will kill you if this isn’t done correctly.”  

Persephone hissed, “Ruination approaches, Nico. This monster will tear us all apart given the chance. And one chance is all it needs to open the door for others like it.” 

“And the blessing?” Nico demanded. “You know that’s required before she can enter the river.” 

“Blessing from who?” Darcy asked. 

“Your parent has to give you their blessing to enter the River Styx and take the curse or it will kill whoever enters its shores,” Nico said, grim. “And yes, the blessing has to be that specific. You can’t trick them into it.” 

“Oh, fuck.” So now she had to convince Tony to approve her plan of almost-certain death? Yeah, this would go over well. 

“Nothing but Stygian Iron might destroy the monster,” Persephone said. “We cannot afford to take any chances. You must receive your father’s blessing before the end of the day. We’re running out of time.” 

Darcy felt a little hunted. “By the end of the day? We’re still in the damn Underworld, I don’t know how to get back!” 

“I’ll take you,” Nico said tiredly. “She’s right. If this thing really is coming, we have to move fast. I still think the river is a bad idea, though, for the record.” He reached out, grasped Darcy’s forearm.

“Ready for what?” 

“Shadow travel.” He tipped a shoulder in a shrug. “I can use shadows as transportation. Here to Stark Tower is nothing.” 

“Compared to what?” Darcy asked, curious. 

“Usually I can average three hundred miles in a jump.” His mouth quirked at her amazement. “It’s less impressive if you take into account the accidental trips to China, the exhaustion, and the molecular degradation if I do too much too fast.” 

“That’s incredible, holy shit, Nico.” 

He ducked his head shyly. “Yeah, it’s pretty cool. Plus I can take Will on some pretty great dates.” Persephone cleared her throat with a pointed expression. Nico rolled his eyes. “Fine, we’re going.” 

Darcy choked on her next breath when the world blurred out of sight, the ground falling from beneath their feet. Nico pulled her forward through a cocoon of utter darkness, a moment of suspension that pressed heavy on her body. 

And then they were stumbling out of a dark corner of the common room in the tower, the sudden brightness from the windows painful. “How’d you get us up here?” Darcy asked, looking around with interest. 

Nico studied the room. “Dark corner,” he muttered, jerking his thumb over his shoulder. “Plus I think your memory helped some.” 

Darcy took a bracing breath. “Okay. I’m going to talk to Tony. You can stay here or…” He was already on the couch, eyes closed and seeming to absorb all of the sunlight in the room. “Okay, I’ll be back.” 

She entered Tony’s lab, nervous and unsure of his reaction to her request. He tended to fret over his loved one’s safety, struggled to accept that she spent most of her life fighting and that he couldn’t do a damned thing about it. But maybe the promise of near-invincibility would help.

“Dad?” She called, looking around. No response. She’d try the penthouse, then. The hidden stairs behind the first Iron Man suit’s display case led to Tony’s penthouse on the uppermost level of the tower. “Jarvis, will you tell him I’m coming up?” The last thing she wanted was to walk in on him and Pepper. 

Darcy found him at the penthouse bar, mixing one of his disgusting protein smoothies in an industrial-sized blender. He brightened at the sight of her, turned the blender off. “Hey, Darce.” Then he frowned. “What is it? What’s wrong?” 

“Tony, there’s something I have to ask of you.” She realized that she was wringing her hands, dropped them with a short huff. 

Tony watched her. She wondered, looking at his suddenly unreadable expression, if he thought she was here to ask for something ridiculous- money, a suit, who the fuck knew whatever he considered worse. As if he weren’t a better gift than any material item he had to offer. 

“It’s going to sound really bizarre, but… I need your blessing-”  

Something eased in his expression, then abruptly tightened again. “For marriage? I think this is the step for Cap, kid, or Barnes.” 

Darcy sputtered. “What?  _ No, _ why would you- that’s not even-” The tension between them eased when he chuckled, somewhat relieved at her reaction. “Okay, this is not going how I planned.” She pinched the bridge of her nose, exasperated. 

Tony sipped his terrible protein shake as she slid onto a stool across the bar from him. “Start with what the hell you need  _ my _ blessing for.” His tone told her that he found this whole thing weird. Which was fair- he was her father, sure, but they’d skipped the stage of parenting when his blessing was needed or even wanted. 

She sighed. Honesty was the best policy, especially with him. “I had a nightmare,” she started, then paused to chew anxiously on her lip at the memory. “A bad one. Turns out, it was a vision, or a warning of some sort from my mom.” 

Serious now, Tony set his shake aside. “A warning?” 

“There’s something coming, Dad. Something bad. Some of the gods think that it will be impossible for them to kill.” 

“Something so bad that the gods won’t go near it?” He crossed his arms, jaw tightening. “And let me guess- it’s up to you to stop it.” 

“It’s more complicated than that,” she protested half-heartedly. “Whatever this thing it, we think it can feed off of a god, grow stronger using a domestic deity. So yeah, they’ve asked me to help.” 

“And you need my blessing to do so?” 

“Not exactly,” she hedged. “There’s a… ritual, I guess, for Greeks. One that involves bathing in the River Styx-” a flicker of comprehension- “and taking the Curse of Achilles.” 

Tony raised a brow. “I think I can extrapolate from here. You want to become indestructible? With a fatal weak point?” 

“I don’t  _ want _ to, not really-” because the idea of the curse scared the hell out of her- “but if I want to survive a fight with this monster, then it’s crucial that I do so bearing the curse.” She dragged a hand through her hair, swore when it tangled in her braid. “Part of the ritual requires your blessing. Otherwise the river will kill me.” 

“I have to give you my blessing to march into the fabled river of the dead? So you can accept a curse that ended tragically for Achilles himself?” He was incredulous now, positively appalled that she'd attempt this.

“Others have done it after Achilles and survived,” she said. Just the two, actually, but best that that detail wasn’t shared since the second one died not long after. “It’s possible, Dad. And necessary. Please. I wouldn’t ask if this weren’t important, you have to know that.” She never asked him directly for anything, could tell it was a sensitive topic after years of being used, means to an end by people who wanted Tony for what he had, not for who he was. 

He stared down at the countertop, jaw tight. Darcy stood, walked around the bar to grasp his hand. “Please, Dad.” He met her gaze, his own eyes dark and shrouded, and waited for him to come to a decision. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next update: Monday!


	7. Chapter 7

“That was fast,” Nico said in surprise. “Did you get it?” 

“Yeah. He gave his blessing.” And it had hurt him to do so. To know that whatever the outcome of this, he would be partially responsible. Which wasn’t true, of course, but Darcy could see that he believed that anyway. 

She’d already had to talk him out of trying to come with her. For all that he was a superhero, Tony Stark was still human, however hard it was to believe. He was larger than life in her head sometimes, but he didn’t have god blood to protect him from the things she had to face.

“Was he mad?” Nico asked quietly, sensing her conflicted thoughts. 

“No. Not mad, just worried, I guess. We haven’t known each other long. He doesn’t like that I spend my life neck deep in trouble.” Which was amusing, coming from Iron Man himself.

“I get it.” Nico plucked at a thick leather bracelet on his wrist, avoiding her eyes. “I used to think that Persephone hated me. Turns out she was just scared to get attached to me or my sister. She knew we’d be targeted, as children of Hades. We were too powerful to let live, in the other gods’ eyes.” 

“So she kept her distance?” 

“Until Bianca died.” Nico’s quiet, shuttered grief made her ache. His older sister Bianca, who was killed on a quest when he was only a child. When  _ Bianca _ was just a child. “Then Persephone realized she’d missed out on knowing Bianca entirely. I was… not in a good place, when she first tried to make things right. But we’re getting there, I guess.” 

He took a deep breath, shook his head. “We’d better go.” There was a noise in the hallway, someone approaching the common room. Nico grabbed Darcy’s wrist, tugged her backwards into a shadowed corner, and they disappeared. 

Persephone stood by the swirling River Styx, watching with a raised brow when they stumbled out of thin air at her side. “Well?” 

“I have it,” Darcy gasped, dizzy from the shadow travel. “He gave his blessing.” 

“Excellent. Nico?” 

Nico dragged a hand over his face, seemed to accept that this was inevitable. “When you enter the river, you have to envision the one thing that ties you to the living. You have to choose a single spot on your body that will be vulnerable, and use it as an anchor to the mortal plane.” 

Darcy stared down at the black water, swirling with strange objects. Broken dreams, she realized, watching a doll sink beneath the surface, a shattered picture frame, diplomas and papers dissolving in the water. Futures lost and thrown away. 

“One place?” She asked. 

“Percy chose the small of his back,” Nico shared. “Before the curse was washed away, anyway.” 

Her head jerked up. “Washed away?”

“The Curse of Achilles is purely a Greek blessing,” Persephone said. “When Percy Jackson crossed through the Little Tiber river bordering the Roman demigod camp, the curse was washed away.” 

“So it can be removed.” Suddenly, she felt less like throwing up. 

“Probably. Percy is the son of Poseidon, so it could be that he survived the loss of the curse because of that. It might kill anyone else who tries it. I’d stay out of it, just in case.” 

Aaand now she wanted to throw up again. “Okay, let’s stop talking about this.” She thought about a potential weak spot- below her breast? No, she’d want to survive a hit there, and the torso was too obvious a target. Same for the ribcage, even her left side that was usually guarded by her shield. The scars wrapped around her waist proved that well enough.

Limbs were out, too. She didn’t want to chance an explosion taking a leg or arm like she’d seen before at camp. Somewhere on her head? No, same issue as the torso. 

Percy had the right idea, she decided. The small of her back, a tiny point opposite her navel. A place well defended by her armor, not a typical target, and hard to hit on accident. 

“Okay.” Her hands were shaking, she noticed absently. Darcy stripped off her leather jacket, set it carefully on the ground. She rested her sword on top of it, kicked off her boots, and gently urged the Aegis off of her wrist. He coiled atop her jacket and hissed at her with displeasure. “Me, too,” she muttered, stroking his head before backing away. Hekabe sat beside her pile of belongings and whined faintly.

Persephone watched her intently. Darcy looked away to Nico. “If I don’t…” She gestured helplessly to her things. “Can you make sure this gets back to my family?” 

Nico nodded, grave. “Remember,” he said. “Focus on the weak spot, let it anchor your soul to this plane. And whatever you choose to keep you here- think of nothing else but that.” 

“Thanks, Nico.” Darcy had a brief moment to wish she’d taken the time to say goodbye, just in case. But there wasn’t time for thoughts like that, not when she had a legendary Underworld river to swim in. 

She waded in, made it far enough that the water lapped at her ankles before she collapsed from the excruciating pain. Her nerves were screaming, the agony so great she couldn’t see, couldn’t breathe. 

She was drowning. The water closed around her head, submerging her entirely. It was tearing her apart, cell by cell, prying her soul straight from her body. She wasn’t going to survive this- couldn’t possibly live through this kind of pain. 

Darcy felt herself give to the pain, just a fraction. But then- “No.” It was loud, firm in her mind, even through the surrounding darkness. The river slowed, the pain ebbed. It came again. “No. Don’t you dare give up. Not now.” 

Who was it? Who did that voice belong to? Darcy peeled her eyes open, her body on fire, and saw a whirling myriad of faces. The ones she loved- Mia, Shay, Ash, Adrian, Jane. Steve. Bucky. Tony. She would burn the world down for any of them, could never leave them behind. 

She felt a sharp yank, like the tug of a rope in the small of her back. The pain ebbed further, slid away entirely as she latched onto the memories and let them ground her. Darcy forgot about the darkness, the fire in her lungs, and reached for them. 

And was instantly thrown out of the river, landing in a heap on the ground at Nico and Persephone’s feet. Nico knelt, hand hovering over her bright red skin. “Darcy?” 

She groaned, coughed. “Ouch.” Her skin faded back to normal, her hair plastered to her head and the last of the sharp ache fading from her body. She dragged herself to her knees, swaying. “Did it work?” She didn’t  _ feel _ any different.

“Let’s find out, shall we?” Persephone waved a hand, stepped away from Darcy as a legion of undead soldiers crawled out of the ground around her. 

“What the fuck?” Darcy snatched up her sword and staggered to her feet.  The soldiers clambered to their feet and moved in. Shit, shit, shit. 

“Persephone-” Nico shouted in outrage when the goddess yanked him out of the way and held him in place with one hand as he struggled. Hekabe was frozen in place with a simple gesture.

Darcy was too busy to focus on anything but the soldiers. One raised a gun, fired. She deflected the bullet before she’d fully processed the shot, blocked another, missed the next. She didn’t have time to wonder at the lack of pain. 

She was too busy tearing through the legion of forty strong like they were standing still, striking them down one by one as though they were nothing but stalks of wheat.

And only when she finally stopped, the bodies crumpled and still all around her, did Darcy glance down at her clothes. She had tears in her shirt and jeans, rips from the soldiers’ blades, round holes where their bullets had punched through. 

But she had no wounds. 

On the other hand, she thought as the world tilted dangerously, she was exhausted. She staggered, barely managed to stay upright. 

“It worked, then,” Persephone said, pleased. Another wave of her hand had the bodies sinking back into the ground. Darcy just shook her head, too tired to be pissed. She leaned down, let Aegis wind back around her arm with a reassuring flicker of his tongue.

Nico growled and yanked himself free. “What if it hadn’t?” He demanded. Hekabe scrambled to Darcy’s side.

“It did, so there’s no use debating what-ifs,” Persephone said dismissively. She eyed Darcy’s ripped clothes, the unmarred skin showing through. “Well, that’s hardly dignified.” A snap of her fingers repaired the tears. “Congratulations, Darcea. You now bear the Curse of Achilles. And now the sword.” She opened her palm again to show the obsidian mound of Stygian Iron. 

Darcy eyed it warily. Her own sword shrank with a flick of her wrist, tucked away in her back pocket. Aegis wound his way to her bicep, a glide of scales and steadying pressure. 

With a brief, nervous glance at Nico, Darcy grasped the Stygian Iron. She hissed in surprise at the burning cold of the metal, thought that all of that had been for nothing because this Underworld metal was going to kill her anyway. 

But it settled, seemed to buzz in her grip. She watched in surprise as the black metal slowly grew into the shape of a sword. The blade was a mottled black, the pommel wrapped in soft leather that protected her hands from that horrible cold. 

Darcy gripped it with two hands, nearly dropped it in surprise when the sword split at the touch. She waited, wide-eyed, until the dual swords had finished forming. Until she held matching blades, three feet long and gently curved with a widened, slanted tip. 

Heavy and solid, they sucked away all surrounding light the same way Nico’s own sword did. He reached out, took them from her hands with a nod, and dipped the blades in the River Styx. There was a vicious hiss, a cloud of icy steam. When Nico returned the swords to her, they bore that same eerie purple glow as Nico’s. 

“Oh, good, you didn’t die.” Persephone’s tone told her it would have simply been an inconvenience for the goddess. Darcy was too overwhelmed to be offended. “I wasn’t entirely sure that would work.” 

“Fucking crazy,” Nico grumbled under his breath, checking over the swords again. He skimmed fingertips over one black blade. “These are finished, Darcy. They can’t be hidden like your other sword, though.” 

She looked at him anxiously. “The Mist will keep them out of sight of mortals, though, right?” 

“Yeah, that won’t be a problem. They just won’t be disguised like your hairpin.” 

Darcy shrugged. “I’ll probably have to keep them close, anyway. This doesn’t seem like the sort of quest that will go well.” 

“Do they ever?” Nico glanced expectantly at Persephone. He made an impatient gesture. “Well?” 

The goddess rolled her eyes. “Fine.” She reached into a nearby ray of darkness and pulled out black armor. “Armor, so you don’t get stabbed in an inconvenient place, and… ah, yes. A sheath for the swords.” She handed over a leather upper body armor piece. Darcy let a wary Nico hold Aegis and the swords before she took it.

Darcy pulled the solid, heavy armor over her head, strapped it securely to her body. It fit like a second skin, black as night with silver edging. She subtly checked the length- yep, it fell past the small of her back, from her collarbones down to an inch above her wrists. She was well covered by… whatever this was. 

“Drakon hide armor,” Nico told her, handing Aegis back to her and watching as it curled around her wrist. “I have some, too. It’s nearly impenetrable.” 

“Much better than Celestial Bronze, that’s for certain.” Persephone looped an iron chain diagonally across Darcy’s body. The chain glowed softly as the goddess set another across the opposite direction, so the chains criss-crossed her body. Darcy looked down in alarm when they brightened, shrank so that they started at the top of each shoulder and crossed behind her back. The front faded until it was part of the armor, barely visible. 

Carefully, Darcy reached back and slid the swords into the new sheaths settled firmly against her back. She tested her range of motion in the armor, but it didn’t restrict even the widest stretch. Her sword pommels rose above her shoulders within easy reach. 

She reached for the short dagger tucked into her ankle sheath. A quick slash across the armor. The blade glanced harmlessly off, not even scratching the material. 

“Unless you take a cannon to the chest,” Nico said dryly, “it’ll hold.” As if he could hear her wondering, he added, “It’s another Underworld-only kind of material. If you can hold Stygian Iron, though, you can wear this.” 

“I think,” Persephone said thoughtfully, “that our time is running out.” Her eyes went unfocused for a split second, the goddess seeing something with her divine powers that they could not. “Nico, return to New York. I will escort your friend.” 

He crossed his arms and stared her down. Darcy had to admire him- she’d met few demigods so willing to argue with a god at every possible opportunity. Most of them retained at least some sense of self preservation. “I can take her back.” 

“You could,” Persephone said. “But I have a few other things to discuss with Athena’s daughter.” She sighed, eyes narrowing dangerously when he didn’t budge. “I swear upon the River Styx that I will do no harm to Darcy while escorting her.” She eyed Hekabe. “You, too. Run along.”

Even the gods had to obey an oath made by the River Styx. Nico glanced at Darcy for her nod of agreement and then prepared to leave. Darcy started forward. “Nico, wait!” He glanced back. “Thank you.” Brief surprise, then a shy smile as he stepped into the shadows and disappeared. 

Hekabe licked Darcy’s hand in goodbye and darted off, presumably back to Hecate’s realm. Left alone with the Goddess of Spring and the Underworld, Darcy snatched up her jacket and yanked her boots back on. “So, why did you want to escort me?” 

“My husband will be displeased with me,” Persephone said. At the odd segue, Darcy scanned the surroundings, now worried Hades would come storming up to them. “He tried to stop Percy Jackson when the little upstart bathed in the river, and he won’t be happy to find out another demigod has accepted the curse.” 

“Unhappy enough to kill me?” 

“No. He wouldn’t risk Athena’s wrath.” But she walked quickly along the river, headed away from the palace. Darcy followed, sliding her jacket over her shoulders. It covered the sheaths on her back, but not the sword pommels. “But I needed to make sure you are aware of one thing- Nico cannot fall into this monster’s hands.” 

Darcy made the connection instantly. “You think this thing will be able to use him for access to the Underworld?” 

“I think Nico is incredibly powerful,” Persephone answered, evasive. “And this monster needs only one opportunity to succeed.” 

“You want me to find it first,” Darcy surmised. “Before Nico does.” 

“Nico can guard New York while you hunt.” 

The first bells of alarm sounded in Darcy’s head. “You aren’t taking me to New York? Then where…” 

Persephone touched her chest with one bloodred nail. “Consider it a favor,” she said with a magnanimous smile. “I believe you’ll be needed here soon.” She shoved and Darcy stumbled back from the unexpected force behind it, eyes widening when the ground crumbled from beneath her feet for the second time that day. 

She fell, a tangle of limbs and rapid flashes from her surroundings. Landed hard, somehow managed to roll into a crouch. She wouldn’t put it past the goddess to dump her in a pit of monsters just for kicks. 

But no- she was in a large, eerily empty room with scattered instruments lying around in careless heaps. A large, blinking sign on the wall caught her attention.  _ DOA Recording Studios, _ it read. 

DOA. Dead On Arrival. “Cute,” she muttered, and stood. This must be one of the main entrances to the Underworld, and not the one in New York. A brief glance out the window confirmed it. 

Persephone had dumped her in fucking California. 

“Great. Just great.” Darcy stomped to the door, then froze when a phone rang behind her. She glanced back, nerves jumping. A small black cellphone- a fucking Nokia, because of course- sat atop the recording equipment across the room. 

Nothing to lose, she decided, and answered. “Hello?” 

“Darcy.” Natasha’s voice was relieved. “I need you to meet me in California, the first flight you can find-” 

“I’m already here,” she interrupted. They had to make this fast, or a monster would track her down. “It’s a long story. Where are you?” She wrote down the address on her hand with a pink glitter pen found under a stack of dated papers. “Okay, I’m on my way. Are you okay? Clint?” 

“We’re fine, just… hurry.” With that Natasha hung up. Darcy stared at the Nokia, wondered if it even counted as tech anymore, then tossed it aside. Better not bring any monsters down on their heads by hanging onto it. She’d have Nat call Tony and the others. 

Darcy checked her swords, Aegis, and then stalked out the door.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Picture of the swords](https://i.pinimg.com/originals/7e/7e/31/7e7e31c13184f936efd2a7cb7a67e038.jpg) Darcy's new ones are shaped like the sword on the far right- a duo sword is apparently what the style/type is called, according to my hilariously vague google searches. 
> 
> Next update... idk definitely by Friday but possibly earlier. Still gotta catch up on the comments from last week... You guys are the best ❤️


	8. Chapter 8

Natasha waited for her outside of a small, unremarkable apartment near Boyle Heights. The demigod sat with her arms braced on her thighs, watching the quiet street with guarded eyes.

Darcy climbed out of the taxi, shoved her credit card back in her jacket pocket and zipped it shut with a slight wince at the cost from the three hour ride. Natasha’s eyes went immediately to the swords strapped to her back. She raised a brow at the weapons and the impossibly black armor showing beneath Darcy’s jacket. 

“Where the hell have you been?” Darcy demanded, frustration and relief warring inside her. 

“I should ask you the same thing,” Natasha said, a frown flitting briefly across her face at everything new she saw on Darcy’s body. 

Darcy waved a hand impatiently. “Underworld, I’ll explain later. Seriously, Nat, you’ve been MIA for nearly two months.” 

But Natasha was staring at her with a pale face. “You’ve been in the Underworld? Why?” 

“Because-” she pinched the bridge of her nose. “I don’t even know where to fucking start. No, wait, yes I do. Where the hell have you  _ been?” _

“Russia,” Natasha said shortly, and stunned her into silence. Natasha glanced at her face, then away. She was sitting like one wrong move would shatter her, Darcy realized. As though whatever she’d found in Russia broke something in her. 

Natasha ran a hand through her hair, the vibrant red dulled by the late evening sun. “I told you some time ago,” she said softly, “about the witch that stripped away our response to technology.” 

Darcy grasped the handrail and tried not to fall over as the world seemed to shift beneath her feet, everything aligning with perfect clarity. The nightmare vision, the dead reaper, the lost souls. The witch capable of unimaginable horrors from Natasha’s stories. All of it, connected and intertwined. She'd just been missing that one piece.

“She’s here.” 

Natasha didn’t ask how she knew, just shrugged tiredly. “Yes, or she will be soon. The witch broke free from her bindings. She is no longer confined to Russia. And she’s after me.” 

“You specifically?” A nod. “Why?” 

“Because I stole from her.” 

Darcy exhaled slowly and then sat beside her friend. “Tell me,” she said quietly. 

“The witch has been on retainer for the Red Room for…” Natasha shook her head, a pained, wry smile touching her lips. “...decades. Maybe longer. Hydra discovered that she could remove the part of us that reacted to technology, didn’t care how it hurt us so long as they could keep track of us at all times. She enjoyed it, liked to make us hurt. Drew the process out for weeks when it would have taken hours otherwise.” 

Darcy said nothing but dropped her hand to touch Natasha’s, let the other demigod cling to it as she continued. “Right before I escaped, before I made it to Shield, she was expanding her experiments with dark magic. Testing it on demigods with the gods’- our _parents'-_ approval.

“I got out. Stayed hidden for years, made sure to keep out of her sights even when the Red Room was destroyed. She was bound to Russia, and the Red Room was the primary camp for the demigod children. I never thought they would give her free reign of the other demigods.” 

“Free reign?” Darcy asked, careful. 

“Experiments, like I said.” Natasha rubbed at her forehead with her free hand. “She’s been Hydra’s lead scientist in Russia’s demigod camps for years now. I received a message from an… acquaintance that told me she’d succeeded in breaking her binding curse. It was meant as a warning.” 

“And instead you left to stop her?” Darcy couldn’t help but feel amazed at the sheer, staunch courage that must have taken. 

“I tried. I failed.” Natasha scowled. “And I found part of her newest experiments.” 

“And you stole them?” 

“I stole them,” she confirmed. “You’ll understand why in a few minutes.” 

Darcy let that lie for now. “I… I think I had a vision of this witch.” Natasha jerked her head around to stare at her. “It was a warning from my mother, I’m pretty sure.” Athena hadn’t confirmed it yet, but Darcy imagined her mother was busy fortifying Mount Olympus and informing the other gods of the threat. 

“What did the vision show?” 

“It looked like a monster, to be honest.” Though the stories of the ancient witch certainly lived up to its physical appearance. “Not human. And she was holding a beating heart.” 

“Part of the ritual,” Natasha said tightly. “To break the binding.” 

“She saw me, though, in the vision. Said she could smell me, had me marked. The blood from her mouth left scars on my chest.” 

“Fuck.” Natasha’s jaw worked. “She’ll be able to find you anywhere, now.” 

“Yeah, well, evidently she’s already managed to steal thousands of souls from the Underworld.” Darcy nodded grimly at the alarmed noise that clawed out of Nat’s throat. “Saw it myself. There’s a dead reaper, thousands of stolen souls, and a witch at the source of it all. Any idea how she managed that?” 

“She’s created her own monsters,” Natasha said absently, deep in thought. “They’re called Гримм. The Grimm.” 

Great. “Sounds creepy.” 

“They look similar to what I bet you saw her as in the vision. She made them in her likeness, uses departed souls to feed them.” 

“That’s even worse than what I was imagining.” Darcy sighed. “So, what, she sent a Grimm ahead to take out a reaper and slip into the Underworld?” 

“Most likely. Her magic can disguise her well enough to slip by the Russian gods, even in their own realms.” Natasha swallowed. “Darcy, she only turned her sights this way because of me.” 

“And in the meantime, how many Russian demigods would she murder? Eventually she’d have to turn to another source for her experiments. And I’m sure she’s been planning her jailbreak for longer than we’ve been alive.” Well, Darcy, anyway. Gods only knew how old Natasha really was.

“More than likely.” Natasha flicked a finger against her armor. “You’ve been in the Underworld?” 

“The Queen herself requested my presence,” Darcy said with annoyance. “And by that I mean she kidnapped me.” 

“To tell you about the souls?” 

“The souls, yes.” Darcy hesitated, then forged ahead. “And to request that I hunt down the witch.” 

Natasha shook her head. “Not alone. You can’t take her on by yourself, believe me. Special armor or no.” 

“It’s not just the armor.” Darcy saw Natasha’s eyes narrow suspiciously. She braced herself, made herself say the words out loud. “I bathed in the River Styx and took the Curse of Achilles. Persephone said that only a Stygian Iron blade could kill the witch, which only Hades’ children can hold… Other than a few powerful deities.” 

“Or an indestructible warrior.” 

Darcy nodded. “Everything happened so fast, I didn’t really… get a chance to think it all through.” The decisions she’d made under dire threats and extreme pressure. Too late to change it now, and she had no use for regret. 

“But you survived.” 

“But I survived,” Darcy agreed. She sighed. “So what exactly did you steal from the witch?” 

Natasha was silent for a heavy beat. And then- “Children.” 

Darcy blinked at her. “I’m sorry, did you just say  _ children?” _

“Yes. Twins. The witch turned to supers years ago- if a powered, non-demigod person fell into her grasp, she… Well, I suspect she struck a deal with the Russian deities to copulate with them.” 

“Demigod children with powered human parents.” Horror colored her voice. What the hell would the kids turn out to be, with that much unknown raw potential?

Natasha nodded. “I believe that the witch got ahold of someone with the X-gene. Either that or she managed to obtain the offspring of the enhanced human and a god. And then started experimenting on the kids as well.” 

“You have them here?” Darcy glanced over her shoulder at the dark, quiet apartment. 

“No. Clint’s with them. I hid them an hour up the coast, just in case she was able to track me.” 

“We have to go,” Darcy said urgently. “We have to get them to Camp Jupiter,  _ now.” _ The magical protections of the camp were strong enough to fool an entire city’s worth of people, and unless one knew exactly where to look it would be impossible to find- let alone overrun. 

Natasha nodded in agreement, stood and gestured to the alley around the corner. “I have a motorcycle stashed back there.” 

A thought occurred to Darcy. “Before we go, can you call Jane for me? Someone else needs to know what’s going on, and I’ll need help with this hunt once we get the kids to safety.” 

They waited in silence as Nat dialed Jane’s lab phone number, safe within the Circle at the tower, and listened to the ringing. Jane answered on the last ring with a breathless, “What?” 

“Jane, it’s me,” Darcy said. She kept her distance, hoped that this wouldn’t attract monsters to their location. “I’m in California and I need you to get here fast.” 

“The fuck? If you wanted to go to Cali so bad you should’ve told me, Darce. I mailed a portal to Stark’s mansion there weeks ago.” 

“I didn’t want to go to California! I was conscripted on another gods-damned quest,” Darcy growled. “Persephone dumped me here. I found Nat, too.” 

“Persephone? Shit.” They heard clattering, a slammed door. “Where are you exactly?” 

Natasha shook her head, so Darcy said, “Nowhere important. Jane, we’re trying to get to Camp Jupiter for safety. Can you meet us there?” 

“You’re so fucking lucky that I’m brilliant,” Jane hissed. It sounded like she was running. “And prepared. There’s a portal at both camps already. I’ll meet you there.” 

“I need backup, Jane. Get Shay, if you can. And… Steve and Bucky. I can’t call them myself or I’ll bring a hoard of monsters down on my head, but they need to know what’s going on.” The last 24 hours had been nothing but a heart-attack-inducing nightmare. She really, really wanted them with her. “And tell my dad I’m okay!” 

“Got it. I’ll get everyone now. What’s your ETA?” 

“Two, maybe three hours.” 

“See you soon.” The call disconnected. 

Darcy followed Natasha to the motorcycle. “We should go now, in case anything tracks us here.” 

“I don’t know the distance I’d need from you or I’d call myself,” Natasha said apologetically. "But we shouldn't risk it." 

“It’s fine, Jane’s got it.” A thought occurred to her and she frowned. “How did you know to call the recording studio to find me?” 

Natasha frowned back at her. “I didn’t. You called me.” 

“No, I didn’t.” Then she rolled her eyes. “Interfering gods. I swear it never ends.” 

Natasha handed her a spare helmet. “Get on.” 

~*~ 

Darcy studied the two dull-eyed children watching her warily from the backseat of the van. The girl was small, fine-boned and delicate with brown hair and wounded eyes. The boy had a shock of white-blonde hair and seemed to vibrate in place, nudging his sister away from the open door with a mistrustful glower at Darcy. She estimated them to be around eleven years old, but they were both skinny and hollow-eyed in a way that said they'd grown up too fast. 

“Wanda,” Clint told Darcy, “and Pietro Maximoff. We pulled them out of Hydra’s clutches just before the witch returned for her next round of experiments.” 

“And she followed you back here?”

“She broke the bindings confining her to Russia’s borders,” Natasha said quietly, “and then followed us. They were her pet projects- they have some significance for whatever she’s trying to do here. She won’t let them go easily. We’ve been skipping all over the world, trying to lose her.” Darcy saw how the kids’ focus rarely strayed from Clint or Natasha, their attention diverting briefly to Darcy’s weapons before returning to their rescuers. 

“And their parents?” 

“A mutant father,” Clint reported, leaning against the idling van with his arms crossed. “Name unknown. But the mother…” He trailed off, shot Natasha a glance. 

“The witch has the same mother as the twins,” Natasha said softly. “Veliona is the goddess’s name, one that should not be repeated lest we risk drawing her attention.” 

Darcy felt chills, glanced around. Night had fallen fast. They stood at an abandoned rest stop, touching base before they finished the journey to Camp Jupiter. “Who is she?” 

“A Russian goddess of death, the warden of the souls of the ancestors. Her children are unusual. Strange and twisted. Their powers are corrupted from birth- thus the title of witch.” 

“And her children are powerful enough to pose a threat like this witch?” What a terrifying thought. 

“Yes. The ones that are raised under the witch’s influence are… monstrous. They’re tortured into insanity, and the ones that survive are usually drained so the witch can bolster her own magic and longevity.” 

Darcy grimaced. This was getting worse and worse. “Let’s get them to safety and then we can figure out what to do next.” 

Clint nodded towards the motorcycle they’d arrived on. “Got another of those stashed away for you, Darce. I figured you and Nat could escort us.” 

“They’ve become attached to Clint,” Natasha said, low enough that the twins couldn’t hear. 

“And they’ll feel safer with him than me, anyway,” Darcy agreed. “Show me the other bike?” 

She took point, as the most familiar with Camp Jupiter’s location. Clint trailed her closely in the van, with Natasha bringing up the rear. Darcy was quietly grateful for the time she’d spent with Steve and Bucky, learning how to drive their bikes months ago. 

She’d learned evasive maneuvers from Captain America and the Winter Soldier, how to safely put the bike down if needed and the best ways to fight while hurtling seventy miles an hour down the highway. It was a memory that made her smile now, despite everything.

They made it to San Francisco without a problem, but Natasha gunned her engine to pull even with Darcy when they neared Oakland Hills. Camp Jupiter was only a mile or so ahead, near the Caldecott Tunnel. 

Natasha veered closer to get Darcy’s attention, then pointed straight ahead. Darcy’s heart lightened at the sight of two motorcycles and their riders waiting for them on the side of the road. Shay and Marley, judging from the weapons visible from the dim headlights. It was confirmed when Shay flashed her their usual hand signal developed years ago while training for war.

Darcy held up a hand, caught their attention, and signaled for them to fall in. She heard the sputtering roar as they brought their bikes around to trail the van, the best rear guard Darcy could have asked for. 

She hoped Jane was waiting for them at camp, had a feeling the daughter of Hephaestus would be needed before this was all over. And could only pray they made it to safety. 

Even as she thought it, though, the shadows around them sharpened, grew deeper and more menacing. At first she thought Nico had joined them despite Persephone’s attempts to keep him in New York, but straight ahead a wall of shrouded, cloaked figures blocked the desolate road to camp. 

They were tall and imposing, faces hidden in their deep, ink-black cloaks. But she caught flashes of white beneath, a mask of shredded bone with bloodred markings that seemed to flare in their headlights. 

Beside her, Natasha made a few short, sharp hand gestures. Darcy nodded- they’d clear the way. She floored it, felt the rumble of the bike become a roar as it powered away from the van. Behind her, Shay and Marley drew even with the sides of the van as they hurtled down the road. 

Natasha stood. She threw something, watched it arch through the air and then explode. The monsters were thrown back, creating a hole just large enough for the van to speed through. Darcy held back when she passed through the opening, though, let Natasha and Clint gain some distance. 

She braked hard, spun the bike in a sharp 180 degree turn. Shay and Marley split, each taking a side of the group. These must be the Grimm, Darcy realized, watching the injured monster’s forms pulse with dark energy. 

They stood, unharmed. Each reached nearly seven feet tall, faces an abyss beneath the cloak except for those rare flashes of something eerie deep within. Their large hands looked human but deeply injured, like flayed or seared skin. 

But the worst was the utter silence from each of them, as if they absorbed every tiny surrounding noise. The world was muted in her ears, the roar of her bike dull and fading. Darcy felt it shudder beneath her as though someone pulled on it. 

She set her jaw, aimed for a cluster of Grimm. Let it crash into them again with destructive force, threw herself from it to escape their clutches. Darcy saw streaks of golden light in the corner of vision- Shay’s arrows, firing at impossible speed. 

Marley fought with a scythe like a woman possessed, cutting down the Grimm within her reach. Darcy reached for her swords. Before she could draw them, though, the night froze in sudden suspension as magic settled like a blanket over them. She struggled to draw breath, could feel the sheer menace seeping through her like a chill. Tried not to panic at the magic creeping down her throat, settling over her skin until she was frozen. 

Shay and Marley dropped to their knees, choking on the thick, poisoned air. Darcy followed only moments later, feeling as though her lungs were shriveling to raisins inside her. She felt those terrible hands grasp her, heard a pained hiss as one tried to take her swords. 

The Grimm drew away from her weapons, fearful. A note of furious impatience rang through the air, a noise that hurt Darcy’s head. They grabbed her again. Chains snapped shut around her wrists. 

Only a few feet away, Shay and Marley were also chained, then dragged to their feet. All three of them fought like wildcats, aware that the Grimm they’d injured were rising yet again. An impossible enemy, one that wouldn’t die and stay dead. Because of the souls they'd fed on, or the magic containing them?

Shay snarled in rage when Marley was pulled roughly along, kicked a Grimm in the face only to be subdued by cold, skeletal hands once again. Darcy risked a glance over her shoulder as they were dragged away. She felt a flare of fierce satisfaction at the sight of the dark, empty road- Natasha and Clint had made it to safety. 

Darcy felt hands pull her into the night; she let the reluctant Aegis fall from her grip as a message to the others to stay away. No matter what happened now, the witch wouldn’t get her hands on those kids. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aaand it's all coming together (finally).
> 
> [Link to Grimm w/out the hoods](https://i.pinimg.com/564x/f8/0a/e5/f80ae51191e89dd42b806878071a67f8.jpg) ... It's kinda creepy so don't click if that's not your thing!
> 
> Next update as soon as I can manage! Prepare for so much badass. So much.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Badass ladies being badass, that's all this is

Reyna smiled fondly as Kaori dragged herself once more to her feet. The daughter of Hestia had an indomitable spirit that didn’t accept failure, not even when facing the Praetor of Rome in the training ring. 

“I meant to do that,” Kaori said stubbornly. She blinked dark, slanted eyes at Reyna, raised her chin in an expression of pure stubbornness. 

“You meant to trip over your own sword and eat dirt?” Reyna asked, trying and failing to disguise her skepticism. 

Kaori wasn’t deterred. She swung her long, dark hair over her shoulder and said, “Yeah, I did, actually. It was all a ploy.” 

Reyna grinned despite herself. “A ploy? Please, by all means, elaborate on your brilliant plan to throw yourself in the dirt at my feet once again.” Her breath caught at Kaori’s blinding grin in response. It transformed the young woman’s entire demeanor, made her the most captivating thing Reyna had ever seen. 

“Alright, you caught me. I dropped the damned thing on accident again.” 

“Maybe a sword isn’t the best weapon,” Reyna said reasonably. “We can work with daggers instead, if you’d prefer.” 

“No, I’m going to figure this out.” Kaori lifted her sword again, unconcerned with the dirt covering her from head to toe. Fondness and something softer, something like tenderness, swelled within Reyna at Kaori’s determined face. 

She dragged her eyes away from the smooth line of Kaori’s neck, tried to refocus. “Right. Let’s-” She whirled at a shout from atop the hill. Jane Foster ran towards them, urgency in every movement. Reyna saw Darcy’s two broad-shouldered soldiers at Jane’s heels, but not the woman herself. 

“When did Jane get here?” Kaori asked, moving to stand beside Reyna. 

“I don’t know,” Reyna murmured. She felt her worry sharpen at the expression on Jane’s face and moved quickly to meet the other demigod. 

“Reyna,” Jane gasped, stumbling to a halt. “We just got word from Darcy. She’s escorting two demigod children to camp with Natasha and Clint, and they have trouble on their heels. Shay and Marley went out to meet her.” 

Even as she finished her breathless explanation, a van and motorcycle skidded to a halt just inside the camp boundaries. Reyna sheathed her sword, stalking towards them. By the time Clint had gently guided two small children out of the van, Natasha was already gunning her engine and leaving again. 

“Praetor,” Clint said respectfully when she reached him. The kids huddled close to him, shrinking back from her imposing form. Reyna glanced at him, then back out to the empty darkness of the tunnel. 

“Where are the others?” She asked sharply. Surely three former Roman centurions could handle anything that threatened the safety of camp- and those three were her best. 

Which only made the quiet more unnerving. 

“We were hit just outside the tunnel,” Clint explained, grim-faced. “Darcy and the others bought us time.” 

Steve clenched his jaw. “How far outside?” He had his shield strapped to his back, cutting an imposing figure against the torchlight. And behind him, his blue-eyed shadow lurked silently, metal arm gleaming in the dark. 

“Maybe eighty feet-” Clint cut off at the sound of the returning motorcycle. Just the one, Reyna noted grimly. 

Natasha yanked her helmet off, held up a hand with Darcy’s Aegis coiled miserably within. Steve gingerly accepted the little snake, which twined around his thumb and hid its face in his palm. “They were taken. All three of them.” She looked to Reyna. “I tracked them as far as I could. They went west, by the looks of it. To the sea.” 

“To the-” Steve cut off, fury and fear bringing a snarl to his face. Bucky murmured something too quiet for the others to hear, something that eased some of the shattering tension in Steve’s frame.

Reyna looked around, found one of her sentries nearby. “Andreas. Tell the Third Cohort to prepare the  _ Adiutrix,” _ she commanded. The sentry nodded and sprinted off into the dark. 

At that, Jane looked around with interest. “The  _ Adiutrix? _ Is that what I think it is?” 

“Legio secunda adiutrix, classis Ravennatis,” Reyna confirmed. Jane brightened.  

Kaori raised a hand. “I don’t know what that means.” 

“Rescuer Second Legion. Roman navy warships,” Jane told her. “It means that we have a boat.” 

“Here? We’re miles from the ocean, though.” 

Reyna smiled. “That’s true. But this ship flies.” 

~*~ 

“Tell me about these monsters,” Reyna murmured. The Third Cohort sat at the oars behind her, ready to row the second she issued the command. Jane was somewhere below, handling the flight mechanics of the often-temperamental Roman warship. Clint had the twins tucked safely away in the small cabin underneath. 

At the moment, they soared through the cold night air. Steve and Bucky stood at her back, Kaori a reassuring warmth at her side. The daughter of Hestia was huddled close, wrapping her frigid hands in Reyna’s thick purple cloak. 

Natasha spoke quietly so that no one outside of their small group would overhear. “They’re monsters fueled by stolen souls. The witch is a soul eater who can slip through realms without notice. Darcy said she stole thousands of souls from Asphodel.” 

Reyna gripped the rail of the boat so tight the wood creaked in protest. “The witch got into the Underworld.” 

“Yes.” 

“So we can expect a large force waiting for us.” 

“It’s highly probable.” 

Reyna glanced behind her. The Third Cohort was bright-eyed, ready for a fight despite the early hour. Dawn would come soon, and that would mark more time that her friends and former officers spent as prisoners on the witch’s ship. 

It was proving difficult to locate said witch. The waters were dark and restless, the cloud cover heavy enough to block out the moon’s fading light. At this rate, they’d be too late.

Even as she thought it, a flash of metal caught her attention. Reyna shouted an order to Jane below, ensuring their camouflage was activated. An affirmative yell from Jane, and Reyna directed the ship to the ocean far below. 

They remained at a generous distance, careful not to disturb the water or air near the Russian ship. It was massive, nearly twice the size of the  _ Adiutrix,  _ and built for war. 

The early hints of dawn spilled across the sky, bright and hopeful. Reyna decided to take it as a sign, sent up a quick prayer to her mother Bellona- the Roman war goddess- and motioned to Kaori. 

Hestia’s only daughter looked back at her with glowing red-brown eyes as she laid a Circle around their ship. “We have to stay right here,” she said tightly, face pale. “It’s next to impossible to hold a Circle on unstable ground.” 

Reyna hid a wince. So much for attacking. She took an even breath, studied the layout and monsters milling about the ship. Remembered the words of the immortal wolf goddess that trained every Roman demigod in their ways-  _ Aut vincere aut mori. _ Conquer or Die. 

She felt everything inside of her harden at the sight of Darcy, Shay, and Marley in chains. Behind her, Bucky made a noise low in his throat as they were dragged out of the belly of the ship and onto the deck. 

Natasha made a noise of warning. “That’s just a lieutenant. The witch must be out hunting.” They all watched in horrified silence as a thin, black-eyed man stalked down the stairs of the ship deck to loom over the prisoners. The three women stood in stony silence in the face of the man, shoulder-to-shoulder and expressionless. 

Natasha and Reyna had to grab Steve to keep him from jumping overboard when the man reached for Darcy. He grasped the hilt of one of Darcy’s swords strapped to her back, then shrieked and staggered back. 

“They can’t touch them,” Reyna muttered to herself. “But why?” 

The man barked orders to the rest of the ship, the Grimm outnumbering the force Reyna had brought by far. There must be nearly two hundred Grimm, maybe more. 

“What are those swords?” Jane whispered, appearing at the deck rail. “The ones Darcy’s wearing. I’ve never seen them before.” She glanced up at the two men, who shook their heads. They didn’t know either, then.

“They’re Stygian Iron,” Natasha answered quietly. 

Reyna stared at her in disbelief. “That’s not possible.” Nico was one of her closest friends. She knew Stygian Iron couldn’t be held by anyone but Pluto’s children.

“Look!” Kaori hissed. They all turned to watch as the man set something on fire on the deck. The blaze burned a terrible, dark red before the flames turned black and then self extinguished. Apparently satisfied, he pointed a long finger at the demigod prisoners, gave an order in Russian that echoed across the water, and then took flight. 

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Jane hissed. “He can fucking  _ fly?” _ The man made for shore, heading east and passing right by their ship. Kaori was rapidly losing color in her face as she struggled to maintain the Circle. 

Behind her, Steve and Natasha were arguing loud enough that Clint climbed out of the cabin with his bow in hand. “I don’t care, I’m going-” 

“You can’t give away our position, Steve,” Natasha said, eyes flashing. “The witch will locate us the second our protections dissolve, and you’ll bring her entire army down on our heads. She cannot take the kids again.” 

“They don’t need us,” Reyna said evenly. Everyone turned to stare incredulously at her. She ignored them. 

“You want to just leave them to be killed?” Steve snapped. 

“We’re lucky,” Reyna muttered instead of answering, checking her friends and former centurions over carefully. They were close enough that she could see their faces, make out their stoic expressions. No obvious injuries. 

“How can any of this be described as lucky?” Clint demanded. “They’ve got three of our own held prisoner, and it looks like they’re going to start the executions any second now!” 

“We’re lucky,” Reyna enunciated carefully, deliberately. “Because those are the three greatest fighters that could have possibly been taken, accident or no.” 

“We can’t just leave them-” Steve started. 

Reyna cut him off with a raised hand. “They may be your friends, your lover, but they were all my soldiers first. If I say it’s possible, then it is. We cannot risk the children or our position.” A languid movement on the deck caught her attention and gave her an idea. 

She turned to Natasha. “Do you have another comm device?” Nat shook her head.

“I’ve got a couple spares,” Bucky said tightly, not tearing his eyes away from where Darcy stood in chains on the deck. Reyna accepted one for herself, tore a small piece of her purple cloak, and then knelt to address the shadow in the corner with a silent prayer to Bellona that this would work. 

“She will need you. And this.” She opened her hand to reveal the second earbud. The Aegis slithered out of the darkness, eyes gleaming malevolent red. It cheered her to see the barely concealed menace in its movements-  _ this _ was the weapon they needed. 

Aegis gingerly picked the earbud up in its mouth along with the cloak scrap and coiled its body so Reyna could lift it carefully over the ship’s edge.

_ “Beati bellicosi,” _ she murmured, imbuing as much good will as she could.  _ Blessed are the warriors. _

They watched in tense silence as Aegis skimmed across the surface of the water, a small black shadow of approaching destruction. Reyna fitted the comm in her ear, saw the others do the same. “No one speak.” This was her plan,  _ her _ soldiers that were trained to follow her every command. It was deeply ingrained, even with the years they’d been away from camp. 

They waited. So softly she barely heard it, Natasha murmured, “‘And where will fate send death to me? In battle, in my travels, or on the seas?’”

Clint shook his head. “Really? Pushkin, at a time like this?”

On the Russian deck, Darcy abruptly kicked a passing Grimm and was struck across the face in retaliation. She dropped to her knees, head ducked for a prolonged moment while Shay and Marley struggled against their bindings. Bucky made a choked noise, not breathing until Darcy was hauled back to her feet. And then-

“Praetor.” Quiet, so soft she barely caught Darcy’s voice. 

Relief swelled, but Reyna shoved it back. Her friends weren’t safe yet. “Darcy. We have eyes on you. We’re concealed in Kaori’s Circle on the  _ Adiutrix  _ at your ten o’clock, but she can’t extend it all the way to you or we’ll risk catching their attention. The twins are with us.” 

A faint dip of her chin meant Darcy understood. They’d have to break themselves free. “Do you have what you need?” A shallow nod. “Good. You’re on your own for this... but it’s just like Eastgate, so I think you three will manage.” The corner of Darcy’s mouth curled up ever so slightly.

“And Darcy?” Reyna paused, waited until her eyes flickered to the general location of their ship in question.  _ “Ad exitium.” _ A sharp gleam in Darcy’s eyes, then a hard smile flitting across her mouth in response. 

Kaori glanced at her. “What does that mean?” 

It was Jane who answered, with dark satisfaction. “Ruin them.” 

With bated breath, they watched as Aegis slithered out of Darcy’s shirt, wrapped around her elbow and wound down to her wrist with vicious intent. The snake set its fangs against the chain. They melted away, dissolved into dripping liquid metal at Darcy’s feet. 

Aegis leaned over, bit Shay’s chains, then Marley’s. And then they were free. 

Before anyone else on board realized what had occurred, they were moving with the lightning-fast speed and grace that Reyna herself had drilled into them for years. They fought as one, as though they could read each other's minds despite the years between now and their time as commanders in the Twelfth Legion Fulminata. 

Darcy activated the Aegis. She slammed a Grimm off of its feet with the shield, sent it tumbling overboard. As the others were still turning, alarmed, Darcy tossed Marley the shield, drew one of those wicked-looking swords and met the oncoming surge of monsters. 

She danced between them, blade flashing, spinning, striking. Black coats fell all around her. Reyna’s breath caught at the speed and ferocity with which she fought.

Marley braced the shield on her shoulder, shouted once. Shay whirled, fired three arrows without looking as she ran towards the daughter of Ares. Her targets crumpled, fell, even as Marley launched her off the deck and onto the mast high above. 

Marley winged the shield back to Darcy, who leapt to catch it, twisted to slam it into a Grimm’s face as she fell back to the deck. She blocked a strike, another, and then hurled it up to Shay without pause. The daughter of Apollo stepped easily along the narrow ropes stretched between the upper level of ship, knocked her opponents clean off of the beams with the Aegis. 

She climbed higher, threw the shield back down to Darcy, who caught it when it ricocheted off the mast. Marley grabbed a rope, snapped it once, and grinned fiercely when it became a vicious whip. She struck, snaring Grimm after Grimm, snapping them to the deck and letting Darcy finish them off with her sword. 

Shay fired again and again from above, arrows hurtling past Marley and Darcy with only inches to spare. They didn’t flinch, didn’t slow, knew Shay was too damned good to miss. 

Darcy spun to dodge a strike, ducked and rolled under the next. Marley’s whip snaked out to catch the Grimm’s arm, threw him to the floor. Shay finished him off as Marley turned and grabbed a handful of ash. She yelled a warning, breathed softly onto the fistful of ash, and then threw it across the farthest side of the deck. 

The wood splintered, cracked dangerously, and then gave way under the blaze that sparked. Shay dropped lightly to the deck beside her, held out an arrow. Without a word, Marley touched the tip. Shay fired it into the mast, which groaned and buckled. It fell, crashing across the deck and sending the ship lilting dangerously to the side.

Darcy’s voice filtered over the comm in Reyna’s ear. “The comm should be bringing monsters to me, Rey. See anything?” Reyna scanned the thrashing waters with a frown of concentration. And then she saw it, approximately a hundred yards away. A dark shadow swam through the depths, heading for the Russian ship. 

“Six o’clock. It’s big.” She saw her former centurion grin. 

“Good.” Darcy shouted to the others, who didn’t hesitate, just dove straight into the ocean on her command and swam for the  _ Adiutrix _ when Jane reversed the camouflage _. _ Darcy paused, though, took another minute to fight off the few remaining Grim before tossing her comm aside, sheathing her sword and shield, and diving into the water. 

Reyna’s heart leapt into her throat when the massive shape turned its attention to the three demigods racing through the water. They were fast- but not fast enough. “Kaori!” Reyna barked. 

Kaori darted to the edge and watched with wide eyes. “Everybody hold on,” she ordered. She closed her eyes in concentration, bit her lip until it bled as she made a circle with her hands, fingertips touching. Reyna felt an intense pressure rise, like the very air was constricting around them, pulsing, building until- 

Kaori threw her arms wide and Reyna was nearly knocked off her feet by the concussive detonation. A shockwave rippled across the water, skimming past the three swimming demigods and blasting the monster back. Frustrated, it shrieked and smashed its tail into the Russian ship before disappearing into the depths. 

Marley reached the ship first, paused to direct Shay up, then Darcy. They collapsed on the deck, soaking wet and breathing hard. Steve and Bucky hovered over Darcy with concern. “Don’t touch the swords,” she gasped. 

Reyna caught Kaori before she collapsed, noted that her eyes were burning a fierce red. She set her gently on the deck and glanced over at the others. 

Shay and Marley sat with their arms hanging over their bent knees, panting hard. Darcy had her head lowered as she gasped for air, apparently having caught a mouthful of water when Kaori blasted them. 

“Centurions,” Reyna said, the pride and approval clear in her voice. The three women looked up, weary but with fierce satisfaction on their faces as they watched the burning Russian ship give a final lurch and then sink into the sea. 

“I gotta say, Lewis,” Clint said, crouching to grin at her. “I’m really fuckin’ impressed.” Darcy accepted his fist bump with a tired laugh. She blinked saltwater out of her eyes and squinted up at Reyna. 

“That was  _ nothing _ like Eastgate, what the fuck, Rey?” 

Marley barked a laugh. “Nah, I see it. Remember that-” 

“Shut up, all of you,” Shay grouched. Reyna hid a grin.

Darcy waved a hand at the questioning looks from the others. “Better that you don’t know.” 

“For legal purposes,” Marley added. She only laughed when Shay swatted her, then glanced at Reyna. “What next, Praetor?” 

Reyna lifted a hand. The Third Cohort leaped into motion, turning them back towards shore. “Now we get back to camp and figure out what the hell to do next.” 


	10. Chapter 10

“I can’t go back to camp,” Darcy said reluctantly. She felt like her body was still on fire from the fight, an untamable monster trying to break free from within her. The Curse of Achilles, clamoring for more death. 

Killing was too easy, now. It worried her. 

Reyna glanced down. “Why not?” 

Darcy met her friend and former lover’s eyes. “I took the Curse of Achilles. It’s a Greek blessing only. If I go to Camp Jupiter, it’ll be washed away.” And after what she’d gone through to get it, she wouldn’t risk losing it so soon. Not until the witch was dead.

“You did what?” Jane asked. She dropped the tool in her hand, stared at Darcy with open shock. 

“That explains it,” Shay murmured to Marley, who nodded in agreement. She’d noticed their odd, watchful gazes during both fights- they’d both fought beside Darcy for years and could evidently tell the difference in their last battle. 

“I had to, Jane,” she said, and winced when sheer rage crossed Jane’s face.

“You could have  _ died,” _ Jane hissed. “Only three people have ever succeeded, and one of them was Achilles himself!” Darcy stared at the deck, tired and miserable. 

A big, warm hand cupped her face. Steve swiped a thumb along her cheekbone, gentle and reassuring. “What’s she talking about, Darce?” Bucky sat beside her, one hand on her thigh. 

“The Curse of Achilles requires bathing in the River Styx,” Darcy said quietly. 

Steve cocked his head, eyes narrowing. “In the Underworld.” 

“Yeah. Persephone kind of kidnapped me and Nico di Angelo- that’s the son of Hades, you remember him. She gave us information on the witch.” Of course, they hadn’t realized it was the witch at the time, not until Darcy found Natasha and pieced it all together. “She said that Stygian Iron is possibly the only thing that could kill the witch.” 

“Why?” Natasha asked, focus sharpening. 

“It kills differently than Celestial Bronze or Imperial Gold,” Reyna said. “Consumes the victim’s soul, their very essence, and thus prevents them from reforming.” She saw Darcy’s look of surprise- this was hardly common knowledge. “You forget Nico is one of my oldest friends. I picked up on a few things.” 

“Yeah, well, I learned a whole lot in like, six hours. Cut me a break.” She rubbed at her face, smiled down at Aegis when his tongue flickered over her cheek. “Anyway, I can’t go to camp. Not yet. Maybe… maybe not ever again.” 

Reyna’s mouth tightened, but she only nodded shortly. “Understood. We can leave you the ship, if you’d like. There’s a cabin underneath.” Darcy glanced through the throng of people on the deck, saw a narrow staircase leading into darkness. 

Darkness that gave her a crystal-clear flashback of being imprisoned in a lightless, suffocating cell only a year ago. Just the thought of it made her breath shorten, her heart hammer in her chest. 

She cleared her throat. “I would rather… not.” 

Understanding lit in her friend’s eyes, but it was Jane who offered the solution. “We can go to Stark’s place in Malibu. There’s a portal there that can get us there quickly and safely.” 

Reyna nodded. “Get us in the air. I don’t want to be sitting ducks if the witch comes looking for what’s left of her army.” She paused on her way to the upper deck to touch gentle fingers to Kaori’s face. Kaori flushed and ducked her head to hide a smile as the ship lurched into the air. 

Natasha turned from where she’d been staring hard across the water. Her expression was carefully blank, but Darcy recognized the tension riding across her shoulders. She was worried. 

Darcy caught her eye. “You didn’t see the witch?” Natasha asked quietly. Darcy shook her head. They’d spent the night locked up underneath the ship, and it was only Shay and Marley’s presence that had kept her from panicking. 

“No. From what I could gather, she was out searching for something. You, the twins, I don’t know.” 

“I laid a few false trails,” Natasha admitted. “They wouldn’t last forever, but I know how to stay a step ahead of the witch.” Just one short step, she said with her eyes. Just enough distance to narrowly avoid capture or death at the witch’s hands- until her luck gave out, anyway. 

“We’re lucky,” Shay said, letting Marley help her stand. She didn’t release Marley’s hand once they were both standing, just intertwined their fingers and held tight. “I have a feeling she would have killed us instantly if she’d been there.” 

Marley nodded in agreement. “The lieutenant ordered the Grimm to kill us, but he was more focused on following the witch to wherever she is.” 

“I don’t think those Grimm were her only force, though.” Darcy grimaced as Steve and Bucky lifted her to her feet, keeping her balanced with steady hands on her elbows. The other aspect of this curse- everything she did would be intensified. Fighting, sleeping, even eating. Right now she needed food, and then a 10 hour nap. “And who was the lieutenant?” 

“A Russian demigod,” Natasha said, eyes narrowed dangerously at the reminder. “The witch had supporters within the camps- mostly demigod trying to save their own skin. Stupid of them. She cares about nothing but power.” 

The Russian demigod had left before the fight broke out. Which was really unfortunate, Darcy thought irritably. They needed information, and interrogating one of the witch’s minions would have been useful. 

Shay made a short motion near her shoulder and the quiver full of arrows disappeared. Clint watched with interest and a little bit of envy. “You should have had two arrows left, how is your quiver still full?” He wondered. 

Shay grinned sharply at him. “Sometimes it pays to have the God of Archery as your father.” 

“Also she bitched Apollo out a couple years ago when her violin was ruined in a monster attack,” Marley said, amused. “She ran out of arrows and the monster smashed it before she could draw her sword.” 

Darcy laughed, leaning against Steve’s side. “He felt bad because she had a concert that night, and technically the monster was following  _ him  _ when it stumbled across Shay.” 

“Got a Strad out of it.” Shay shrugged as if to say ‘worth it.’ Her current violin, and most prized possession. Her musical talents were unparalleled, even among her demigod half-siblings. Apollo had been sneaking into her concerts for years before she caught on. 

“Didn’t they take your weapons on the ship?” Bucky asked. He hadn’t strayed out of arm’s reach since she set foot on the ship, keeping her close like she might disappear on him again.

Darcy shrugged when he looked at her. “They couldn’t touch my swords. It killed two Grimm before they stopped trying.”

“They took ours,” Marley said. “But our weapons always find us if we’re in trouble. So the Grimm confiscated them and didn’t realize they would just end up back with us.” 

“Otherwise they’d have patted us down every twenty minutes,” Shay agreed. She glanced at Natasha. “Do your weapons not do that?” 

She shook her head. “When the witch strips away our natural response to technology, it also applies to magical interference. If a magic weapon could find us, so could an enemy or a sentry. Or another god.” 

Jane reappeared from under the deck, carrying a control panel for her portals. “I sent an Iris message to Adrian. He’s going to meet us at Stark’s.” She looked around, frowned, and waved for Reyna to halt the ship’s progress. 

Everyone braced as the ship lurched to a halt, hovering in the clouds as Reyna frowned down at Jane. “What?” 

“The ship can’t be moving when we go through the portals. We’ll end up indefinitely suspended between time and space, and that is  _ not  _ a good place to be, believe me.” 

Reyna joined the group, holding up a hand that signaled for the Third Cohort to wait for her next command. She looked at Darcy, uncertain. “The camp...” 

“You and Kaori need to get back to Camp Jupiter,” Darcy agreed instantly. “Kaori can keep it hidden from the witch- we can’t let her get her hands on any demigods here. There’s no telling what she’ll do to them.” Natasha flinched as though in remembrance, no doubt of something terrible.

Reyna glanced warily at the swords strapped to her back, seeming to decide against a hug. She settled for pressing a kiss to Darcy’s forehead. “We’ll keep the camp safe,” she promised. “You do what needs to be done.” 

“I will,” Darcy said quietly. 

“And don’t trust this Curse,” she warned. “Fight like I taught you.” 

At the reminder, Darcy glanced back at the group waiting patiently for her.  _ “Ubi concordia, ibi victoria, _ ” she murmured.  _ Where there is unity, there is victory. _ Reyna’s way of reminding her that she wasn’t fighting alone. “How do you always know what to say?” 

Reyna smirked. “It’s a gift. Now go. You have places to be.” 

“A witch to kill.” Darcy nodded sagely.

“A war to stop,” Jane muttered.  _ “Again.”  _ She pressed a few buttons, slapped the machine when nothing happened, and then looked pleased when a portal tore open the air beside her. “Excellent. The portal at Stark’s is already open. Step straight through, and hurry. We don’t have much time.” 

“Us first,” Marley said, sword in hand. She winked down at the twins, who were watching her with something like awe. “Just in case.” Shay stepped through first, followed by Marley. The twins clutched tightly to Clint as Natasha guided them through the portal next. They vanished. 

“C’mon, doll.” Bucky slid his hand into hers and smiled down at her. She let him pull her through, Steve on their heels. They stumbled into the basement of the Stark mansion in Malibu. Shay and Marley gave the all-clear, though they kept their weapons close by just in case. 

“Jarvis,” Natasha said softly when Jane stepped through and closed the portal behind her. “Please unlock the doors.” 

“Welcome, Ms. Romanoff and guests.” He avoided addressing the other demigods directly, having worked out with Darcy last year ways around the technology issue. The basement doors unlocked, Jarvis having determined that they weren’t a threat. 

Supposedly, if a monster crashed through a portal by accident one day, Jarvis would be able to contain it in the Hulk-proof basement until someone arrived to take care of it. Ash had already called dibs on the first fight, since that was exactly the kind of mayhem he enjoyed.

They all trekked upstairs and, at Jarvis’s direction, found bedrooms for each of them. Natasha lingered as Clint showed the kids their room, where bunk beds and an adjoining door to Clint’s room were painted bright, friendly colors thanks to Mia.

“There are things you should know,” Natasha said quietly. “About this witch and who she really is.” 

“Incoming,” Jane said loudly before she could answer. Everyone tensed, reached for their weapons even as Jane opened a portal so Adrian could step through. Darcy felt relief like a blow at the sight of him, only to stare in shock when Mia and Ash came through behind him. 

“Mia?” The little girl brightened and scampered over to throw her arms around Darcy’s waist. 

“Hi, Darce!” Darcy swept a hand over Mia’s hair and stared accusingly at Adrian and Ash. 

Ash held his hands up defensively. “Hey, we couldn’t leave her behind. It wasn’t safe there.” 

“It’s not safe _ here!” _

Adrian opened his eyes, and Darcy felt a protective Circle settle around them. “It is now. Thais and Aya are guarding the foster house.” 

Shay crossed her arms and scowled. “She would have been safer there.” 

“Mom said to keep her close,” Adrian said. “Hecate and her children are the closest thing to witches Greek demigods have. Hestia thinks that might mean something.” 

Mia hugged Steve and Bucky, then darted over to collide with Shay. “I can help,” she said earnestly. Shay tucked her close but didn’t argue, sharing an unhappy look with Darcy. 

“She’ll be safer with us,” Ash pointed out. 

“The things you need to tell us,” Darcy said aside to Natasha. “Can it wait until morning?” Natasha nodded. “Okay. Then, if it’s all the same to you guys, I’m going to take a nap.” 

“Me too.” Marley rubbed a hand over her face. The three of them hadn’t slept at all during their captivity, and after the fight Darcy was fading fast. 

“Mia, would you like to meet Wanda and Pietro?” She perked up at Natasha’s question and followed her down the hall. The group dispersed. 

A soft touch brought her around. “Darce?” Steve rested a hand on the small of her back and sent chills racing up her spine. She stared at him with wide eyes, pulse hammering in her throat. 

He wasn’t even touching skin, just the damp leather jacket that covered her weapons and armor. But even still, the pressure on her one weak spot gave her a violent chill, all the hair on her arms standing on end. 

Steve dropped his hand and frowned at her. “What...” 

“Not here,” she muttered, and led them to the room that she’d stayed in the last time Tony brought her here. It boasted a king-sized bed and a skylight that glowed even at night, so she was never without light. 

Bucky shut the door behind them and leaned against it. A heavy silence settled over the room. Darcy sat on the edge of the bed and made a face when it jostled her swords. “Fuck, it has been a day.” 

Steve watched her closely. “What’s going on, Darce?” 

She stood with a sigh, stripped off her jacket to reveal the drakon hide armor. It must have looked as menacing as it felt, because both of them raised a brow at the sight of it. She frowned, tugged at the chains clasped on top of each shoulder and sighed in relief when they gave way. 

The swords, sheath and all, slid off of her back. She wound the chains around each sheath, tucking the swords carefully away on the small couch in the room. “Don’t touch those, no matter what,” she instructed, squirming free of the armor. 

Beneath the armor, she still wore her high-necked tank top. It was plastered to her skin, still wet and bedraggled from the last 24 hours. “Something happened when I had the nightmare,” Darcy said quietly. 

“The one with all the blood?” 

She glanced up, met Steve’s worried gaze. “Yeah. It was a vision, apparently, from my mom and Hecate. But the witch saw me, and, well...” She stripped off the tank top. 

Both men moved forward, eyes dropping to the marks on her chest. She shivered in the cool room as Steve traced a teardrop scar. “What the hell.” 

“Whatever her magic is, she was able to mark me. It’s possible that she can track me with it.” 

“Why didn’t you say anything?” 

“Because I was terrified,” she admitted. “I didn’t know what it meant, or that it was real. Let alone that she was  _ here.”  _

Bucky pressed his thumb to the lowest scar on her belly. She shivered for an entirely different reason now. 

“And then everything happened so fast- Aya, then Nico, then fucking Persephone.” She sighed, rubbed tiredly at her eyes. “It always goes that way. Stupid fucking quests.” 

“So you’re responsible for tracking her down now? Because you’re... invincible?” 

Darcy glanced at the closed door, inched closer to them. “I took the curse, yes. Which means that I have only one spot on my body that is vulnerable.” She took Bucky’s hand- the metal one, to his quiet shock, the idiot- and guided it to the place on her back, her one weak spot. 

“This is the only place that a strike will kill me,” she said softly. “I’m sure that enough damage anywhere else might kill me, too, but otherwise… this is it.” The gravity of what she was sharing with them settled heavily over the room. 

“Your Achilles Heel,” Steve murmured, solemn. He leaned down, pressed a kiss to her mouth and then pulled away when she swayed. “You need to sleep.” 

“I need a shower,” she corrected. “And… I really don’t want to be alone right now.” 

And the feeling of the warm water gliding over her in the shower minutes later chased away the chill lingering from the past day’s events, soothed further by the miles of smooth skin surrounding her. By the feel of Steve pressing into her slowly, reverently, Bucky firm and solid at her back. 

She let her head drop back as Steve’s mouth fastened to her throat, Bucky’s warm breath against her neck as they fucked her until she was limp and sated in their arms. She gave into the tides of arousal and soft touches and murmurs against slick skin. Bucky cleaned her up with his mouth, sent her over the edge one last time before her legs gave out. 

They helped her to bed, let her slide into silk sheets and curl up between them. Before she slipped into unconsciousness, Steve gently cupped a big hand against her face. “Next time, you tell us.” 

She gripped his hand, recognized the firm, serious set to his mouth. “I will,” she promised tiredly. It wouldn’t be easy to lean on them, not when her first instinct was to keep them out of demigod affairs, but he was right. Good or bad, they were in this together. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I missed Mia so she's back lol


	11. Chapter 11

Darcy woke to a horribly familiar landscape- pure, untouched snow so white it nearly blinded her. Cold that could only mean pain and death to come. She was distantly aware that this was another vision- except this time, someone else had brought her here. 

The same sickly tang of dark magic hung in the air, so sharp and poisonous that it stung her lungs with every breath. Through the swirl of wind and snow she saw a vague shape approaching, circling slowly closer while she watched and waited. A terrible moment of deja vu, but this time she knew what to expect. This time she knew her enemy. 

“So,” the witch said. Her voice was low, harsh, grating. “You survived.”

“I did,” Darcy answered, turning her head to track the witch’s slow, even progress around her. She cut a dark, imposing figure against an empty sky. It made the hair on her arms and neck stand on end to have the witch at her back. “I’d say sorry about your army and your boat, but, uh, I’m really not.” 

The chill sharpened, winds swirling thickly in a way that told her the witch was angry. Furious, even, but her voice was composed when she said, “Yes, it appears I’ve underestimated Greek spawn.” She moved closer, a shark circling its prey. “It won’t happen again.” 

“You have no idea what you’re doing,” Darcy told her with a confidence she actually felt. Surprisingly, the overwhelming terror had faded. The sight of the witch still made her heart skip painfully in fear, but she wasn’t the invulnerable force in Darcy’s mind anymore. She had weaknesses like any other monster or demigod. It was just a matter of finding them. Root them out, discover what made her hurt- and then make her bleed.

“Oh?” 

Darcy tipped a shoulder in a shrug. “You’re used to ruling Russia’s half-bloods, I’m sure.” She angled sideways to keep the witch in her sights. Blood stained every step she took, a red prison encircling Darcy with every stride. “But here, things are different. Demigods are different. You have no idea what we’re capable of.” 

Because, from what she’d pieced together from Natasha’s stories and memories, the Russian demigods grew up prisoners to a sadist and depraved deities. They’d been broken, shattered and re-forged into weapons. Stripped of all individuality, tortured repeatedly until resistance was nothing but a distant, abandoned hope. 

But here, in camps under the guidance and protection of deities and legendary warriors, Greek and Roman demigods grew fierce, relentless. They were stronger for their differences and their freedom. And they would certainly not let a monster break them, not when they’d already learned and fought for every inch of  _ good _ in their lives.

It may have taken time, years to heal from her own emotional wounds, but Darcy knew now that what they had was precious. A safe haven, friends and half-siblings that would lay down their lives for each other without hesitation. 

They were children of war. Children of Olympus. 

An amused hum. “I have some idea, surely. You shredded my army to pieces, remember?” The air grew heavy and the cold biting. “It won’t take much to rebuild. And to repay the favor, I think I’ll root out your little family first. What do you think? Should I start with the heroic but painfully  _ human  _ father, or those tragic lovers of yours? Perhaps the swift-footed Ash, or bright-souled Adrianos? The brave-hearted Shay? They’ll make excellent additions to my experiments.” 

The menace in the witch’s tone said that she would take her time with them, would kill them as slowly and painfully as she knew how. She was the heart of evil incarnate, come to wreak havoc and death. And, evidently, she’d done her homework on the important people in Darcy’s life. A scare tactic to see if Darcy would balk, to see if she’d flinch.

“I killed the last person to threaten my family,” Darcy said lowly. A warning. “They were gods, and they fell as easy as any other.” 

A hand settled against Darcy’s throat, the touch so very gentle that belied its intended malevolence. Darcy felt her lip curl into a sneer even though it  _ hurt, _ the scars on her chest burning at the simple touch. 

“Oh, but I’m no god, Darcea Athana. I’m much, much worse.” 

Nails dug into her skin and dragged down, down, down, intending to spill her throat onto the snow. But the too-sharp nails skidded harmlessly off of her skin. The witch hissed, jerking away in anger and confusion. 

“That’s funny,” Darcy said softly, dangerously. “So am I.” 

“What is this?” The witch snarled, swiping for her face this time. Her nails scored across Darcy’s face but left no wounds. Darcy felt the force of the strike, felt the nails try to rip and tear through soft skin- felt them meet an impenetrable force instead. 

The swell of dark magic was suffocating. “I can still kill you this way,” the witch growled. “Even without-” 

“Without what?” Darcy asked, interest sharpening. She smiled slowly as realization struck. “You’re looking for something, aren’t you? Something other than the twins.” Magic tried to choke her, failed. “Something to do with your magic.” 

“Enough!” Darkness exploded around them. Darcy dropped to her knees under the strain, struggled to catch her breath. Her sight was gone due to the sheer, utter dark, but she could hear and feel the witch pacing angrily while Darcy fought for air. The force of the magic was like a blow to her chest, knocking the air clean out of her lungs. 

Until the witch abruptly froze. Darcy looked up and around, aware that the witch’s stunned silence meant something unexpected. Something unplanned.

In the distance, a pure, bright light approached. The darkness shied back from it, retreating desperately in the face of the small figure at the center of the light. 

Darcy’s breath caught as Mia swam into view, the girl stepping unafraid through the black and the snow with a little black cat on her heels. “What…” 

Mia stopped at her side and smiled widely. “Hi, Darce.” She reached out and grabbed Darcy’s hand. “It’s time to come back now.” 

“Come back?” Darcy repeated dumbly. Nyx blinked purple eyes up at her. 

“What are you, child?” The witch asked with obvious interest. Darcy’s head snapped up and she jerked to her feet for fear the witch would grab for Mia. 

Before she could speak, though, Mia looked up at the monstrous witch looming over them. She wrinkled her nose in apparent disgust and said, “Go away.” 

Darcy could only watch in shocked silence as the dream-vision faded almost instantly. The biting cold disappeared, snow softening to a gentle stream of warm water swirling around their legs. Darkness receded, became the soft warmth of a late summer evening. Silver-white trees stretched to a purple sky high above. Small black birds hopped excitedly along golden-leafed branches, peering curiously down at them. 

“Better,” Mia said with satisfaction. She glanced up at Darcy with concern, tugged anxiously on the hand she was still holding tightly. “You’re okay, right?” 

“I… I am okay, yes,” Darcy said slowly. “Mia, how…” 

“As it turns out, she is somewhat of a magical prodigy,” Hecate said from the shadows of the trees. Her voice was like smoke through the air, low and welcoming. The goddess materialized through the darkness, a plum-colored velvet dress sweeping through the soft grass and fallen leaves. 

Hecate smiled gently at the pair. “Hello, Darcy.” 

“Hecate,” Darcy greeted, a knot of tension loosening in her chest at the sight of the goddess of magic, crossroads, and so much more. Hecate was a force to be reckoned with, and Darcy had a feeling the witch wouldn’t dare oppose her directly. 

“I did it, Mom,” Mia chirped, bouncing in place and splashing them both. Nyx darted to shore for safety. “I made her go away!” 

Darcy stared down at Mia in awe. Her girl had sent the witch away with a simple command, had been unaffected by the vicious poison of her magic. She leaned down and swept Mia into a hug so tight that the little girl squeaked. 

“Darcy,” Mia complained, trying to squirm free. “You’re squishing me!” 

“You brilliant little troublemaker,” Darcy said into her hair. “I am so proud of you.” She kissed Mia’s head. “But you’re never allowed to do it again, that was  _ so  _ dangerous.” 

“You wouldn’t wake up,” Mia said seriously when Darcy put her down. “Steve was scared. Bucky, too.” 

Darcy glanced around. “Where are we? I still can’t wake up?” 

“You can,” Hecate assured her. “Mia can guide you. But first-” 

“First we should talk.” Darcy turned to see Athena standing upstream, dressed for war. Breathing came easier at the sight of her mother’s hard grey eyes. 

“Mom.” 

Athena’s mouth softened, the closest thing to a smile she could apparently manage. “Darcy. I’m glad to find you in one piece.” 

“Me, too,” she muttered. She unconsciously rubbed at her neck, still able to feel the vice grip of the witch’s hand.

“So you survived the River Styx,” Hecate said, expression unreadable. 

“Persephone said it was the only way,” Darcy said, hearing the defensive note in her voice. It wasn’t like she’d  _ wanted  _ to jump in the damned river. 

“She was right,” Athena said, grim. “All the same, I’m relieved you survived.” And smug that one of her own children had managed it, Darcy could tell. 

A soft woof echoed through the trees, and Hekabe bounded out of the shadows to splash to a stop at Mia’s side. Her arrival broke some of the tension in the air.  “What is this?” Darcy gestured around them. 

“A liminal space of my own creation,” Hecate said. “Dreams are especially useful methods of covert communication between gods and their children.” 

“And the safest method with this witch so near.” Athena frowned. “And able to track you. I don’t like that she can find you, Darcea.” 

Darcy’s head snapped up as a thought occurred. “Can she find me  _ now? _ At the house? I need to wake up, make sure she hasn’t-” 

“She cannot find you,” Hecate told her firmly. “Not while you physically remain inside of Adrian’s Circle, and not with Mia at your side. My daughter can conceal you from her magic.” Mia wriggled triumphantly. 

“Besides that, we can control the liminal spaces,” Athena reminded her. “No time will pass while you remain here with us.” 

Mia was leaning down, dipping her free hand in the water and giggling as brightly colored fish nibbled at her fingers. Hard to imagine that she possessed enough power to deflect the attentions of a centuries-old witch. 

Darcy let the soft, warm breeze sweep over her and breathed a sigh of relief. “Okay. So, what can you tell me?” 

“The witch is looking for something,” Athena said. She adjusted the spear strapped to her back, her golden helm tucked under one arm. Bright gold bracers on her forearms reflected the soft light from above. Her armor was made of thick, scarred leather with feathers engraved along the back and shoulders. She looked every inch the warrior goddess she was. 

“I picked up on that,” Darcy agreed. “Do you know what it is that she’s trying to find?” 

“We do not,” Hecate said. “But there is someone who might know. We’re working on that avenue.” 

“In the meantime,” Athena told her, “I will continue tracking the witch’s progress.” 

“Is that what you’ve been doing?” 

Athena nodded. “I’ve kept three steps ahead of her so far, with Hecate’s help. Blocking, destroying, or hiding anything the witch seems to be trying to obtain. It’s why we haven’t checked in with you before now.” 

“She’s moving quickly, Darcy,” Hecate said. “Whatever she seeks, it’s very important to what she’s trying to do here. Personally, I believe it has something to do with her magic.” 

“She got angry when I guessed the same thing,” Darcy shared. She smiled down at Mia, who was now in a staring contest with a pink frog held aloft in her palm. Mia narrowed her eyes at her newfound friend for a moment and then beamed when it turned a vibrant yellow. The frog croaked solemnly.

Hecate frowned. “That is concerning.” 

Mia leaned down to let the frog hop away, her hand nearly slipping out of Darcy’s. She loosened her grip, but Mia jerked upright and squeezed her hand with wide eyes. “You’re not s’posed to let go, Darce!” 

“My apologies,” Darcy said seriously. 

“Mia is keeping our connection strong,” Hecate explained with a smile. “Adrian’s Circle is causing quite the interference, but with Mia maintaining the connection from inside of it, we can make do.” 

“You should be getting back anyway,” Athena said. “Be careful, Darcy. You may have the blessing, but you aren’t invincible.” 

“I know.” 

“And keep my daughter close,” Hecate ordered. “The witch can find you using those marks any time you’re out of a protective Circle. Mia is capable of breaking that tie if the witch yanks on it again.” Her mouth tightened. “That said, I trust you will keep her safe.” 

Darcy tucked Mia close. “I will. You know I will.” 

Her face softened. “I do.” 

“We’ll be in touch, Darcea. Stay safe. Stay smart.” Athena smiled at her daughter as their surroundings began to fade. 

This time, Darcy woke for real. 

She opened her eyes to find Steve and Bucky both hovering over her with matching expressions of worry. Adrian paced behind them, muttering to himself. And, sitting cross-legged on the bed at her side, still holding her hand, sat Mia. 

Mia blinked slowly, an eerie purple light fading from her eyes. Then she grinned at Darcy, turned to Adrian, and said with utmost triumph, “I  _ told  _ you I could do it!” 

“Yeah, yeah,” Adrian said, grinning helplessly back at her. “I was worried, sue me.” He leaned down to kiss her forehead, then looked at Darcy with concern. “You okay?”

“We couldn’t wake you,” Bucky told her, sweeping her hair away from her face. 

“Your body was so cold,” Steve said. He was pressed along her side, radiating heat like a furnace. 

“I’m okay. Mia pulled me out of... whatever that was.” Darcy sat up and scooped Mia into her lap, cuddling her close. Mia made a happy sound and wiggled until she was tucked under Darcy’s chin. “Because she’s apparently our little magical prodigy.”

“Mom’s teachin’ me lots of stuff,” Mia told Bucky and Steve. “She says I’m her most precocious kid.” Steve ducked his head to hide a grin. 

Adrian rubbed his hands over his face. “How did she get to you, Darce? I thought...” 

“Your Circle kept us hidden,” she assured him. The pinched lines around his eyes smoothed out. “The witch marked me, back when I first saw her. She could get to me and only me because of that, from what I understand. But Mia was able to sever the connection.”

“Not forever,” Mia mumbled. “Just this time.” 

Darcy’s arms tightened around her at the downtrodden tone. “You probably saved my life, kiddo. I don’t care if you’re never able to do it again.” 

“I can!” Mia protested. “But only when it’s already open.” 

“So if the witch tries to get to Darcy again, you can break the connection?” Adrian asked. Mia nodded. 

“Bad news is that we’ll have to be within a Circle otherwise, or she’ll be able to track us down.” 

Bucky shifted on the bed, running a hand through his hair. “We need to split up.” 

Darcy made a quiet noise of agreement. “If she can track me, then I can’t be anywhere near those kids.” 

Steve glanced at Adrian. “They can hide at the foster house, right? Or would that make it a target?” 

Adrian chewed on his lower lip. “It’s the best protected,” he admitted. “She wouldn’t be able to get through- not with three layers of defensive Circles from me, Thais, and Kaori.” 

“Not to mention Jane’s portals,” Darcy added. 

“Would they be able to hijack a portal, though?” Bucky asked, worried. 

“No.” Darcy looked around to find Jane, who’d answered his question. The scientist was nowhere to be seen. “Down here.” 

Darcy peered over the side of the bed and blinked down at Jane, who was sprawled out on the floor with an arm thrown over her eyes. “Jane? What the hell are you doing on my floor?” 

“Resting,” Jane grumbled. “Adrian and I were up all night working. Then we saw Mia go running down the hall like something was on fire.” 

“Nyx told me you were having a bad dream,” Mia explained. She pointed to the tiny cat watching them all from across the room. Nyx chirped in response at Darcy’s thanks. 

“Anyway,” Jane said, gracelessly heaving herself into a sitting position. “The portals are controlled by me directly. Any unknown or unauthorized use sends up a flag. I’m notified and get readings on who or what’s inside of which portal- helpful for knowing if one of the kids is in trouble. I can trap a monster in between portals if necessary.” 

Darcy shivered at the thought. “I’ll keep that in mind.” 

“It’s just a precaution.” Jane shrugged. “Didn’t want to chance the exact thing we’re worried about.” There was a beat of silence as they all considered the new information and recent events. 

Then Steve leaned over and scooped Mia out of Darcy’s lap. He tossed her over a broad shoulder while she giggled hysterically and flailed around. “C’mon,” he said over his shoulder, catching a bony elbow in the side of the head with an exaggerated wince. “I’ll make breakfast and we can come up with a game plan.” He jogged down the hall with Mia shrieking like a banshee.

Bucky and Darcy shared a look. “We’d better… stop him from doing that.” 

She shoved at him and scrambled off the bed in a rush. “Yeah, go, hurry!” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next update will be either this weekend or sometime next week


	12. Chapter 12

“I’m perfectly capable of making breakfast,” Steve insisted. 

Mia sat cross-legged on the counter beside the stove and squinted dubiously at the bowl in his hand. “Bucky says you get distracted too easy.” She propped her chin on her hands, elbows resting on her knees, and watched as Steve glowered across the room at Bucky. 

“He’s right,” Adrian said before Bucky could open his mouth and make things worse. Darcy eyed Steve with amusement. Adrian placed a hand on Steve’s back and pushed him gently but firmly away from the stove. “I still haven’t forgiven you for breaking my favorite pan. I’m still not even sure how you did it, actually. You snapped the damn thing clean in half.” 

“It wasn’t my fault,” Steve protested, but he gave in with a crooked smile when Bucky snorted a laugh. Technically, Darcy mused, it had been all three of them. Steve didn’t focus well when there were more... interesting things happening behind him. “Fine, I know when I’m beaten.” He poked Mia in the side and grinned when she squawked indignantly. 

Darcy made herself useful by starting a new pot of coffee in Tony’s jumbo-sized machine. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw two small shapes hesitate in the kitchen entrance. Wanda and Pietro hovered anxiously at the edges of the group, eyes wide from all the noise and chaos in the room. 

Mia was now chattering at a mile a minute about enchanted pebbles in Hecate’s cabin at Camp Half-Blood to Steve and Bucky, who were leaning against the counter close by for when she inevitably decided to fling herself off of it. 

Jane slid gently past the twins into the room, bumping against Clint, who was providing a reassuring presence for the traumatized kids. Darcy was careful not to look directly that them for fear of scaring them off- they were focusing with heartbreaking attention on every person in the room, obviously considering the adults a threat to their safety.

But they were also drawn in by Mia, listening to her wild story about accidentally dropping one of those magic pebbles at camp and turning everyone in a fifty foot radius into a tree. They were watching her crazed hand gestures, her story-relevant bellowing and righteous shouting, her absolute lack of fear for anything or anyone in the room. 

Wanda looked at Mia with worry. As if at any second the Greek demigod would do something to anger the adults and thus be punished in whatever horrific way they’d experienced under the witch. Pietro stared at the adults with open distrust, an edge of defiance so at odds with the fear vibrating through his body. He was taller than his sister, seemed to follow her every movement, always ensuring he was between her and the others. 

It broke Darcy’s heart. She knew that kind of fear, the shadow of the threat hovering over your head, the terror that grabbed you by the throat until you thought it would only take one more thing to finally break you. 

But she’d fought past it, had broken free from those restraints. Now she had a family that grew every day, people that would do anything for her in the same way she would for them. She could only hope that Wanda and Pietro saw that sooner rather than later- because no doubt about it, they were hers now. 

Or, she corrected mentally as a slender shadow joined the twins, they were Natasha’s. And Natasha was family, which meant the kids were Darcy’s now too. She passed around mugs of coffee and took a seat at the island. 

“- and Mr. Chiron said I wasn’t s’posed to be climbing the roof again, but if you get all the way to the top you can just pretend you can’t hear him-” 

Ash laughed into his coffee as he joined Darcy at the bar. “Our little hellion,” he murmured. 

“I can’t believe I’m actually feeling sorry for Chiron,” Darcy grumbled back, but she was smiling. “Where are Shay and Marley?” 

“Patrol,” he said under his breath. “Natasha was worried.” Darcy nodded quietly in understanding and leaned against him, appreciating the easy, comforting way that he tucked her under an arm. 

“Mia, baby, do you want chocolate chips or blueberries in your pancakes?” Adrian asked. 

Mia paused her story about her reign of terror at camp to gleefully shout, “Both!” And then went back to entertaining Steve and Bucky with her diabolical actions in the camp war games. 

“Gross,” Adrian said on a sigh, but dutifully dumped both into a smaller bowl with some batter. 

Shay and Marley came through the side door of the house, both armed to the teeth. “All good,” Marley said to Natasha. Shay set her bow on the counter, then moved it with an amused expression when Mia eyed the weapon with interest. 

“Want me to scramble some eggs?” Shay asked over her shoulder as she washed her hands. Adrian nodded. The sword strapped to her hip caught on a dishtowel and Marley helpfully untangled her, removing Shay’s entire weapon belt for good measure. 

“I can do bacon,” Bucky offered, joining her to scavenge through the massive refrigerator that had been filled thanks to some last minute orders by Jarvis. Bucky’s metal arm was often utilized for removing pans from the oven in their household. It seemed to amuse him to use to arm for something so mundane, and he was quietly pleased with Mia’s open fascination with it. 

“Toss me the fruit,” Marley said. She caught the avalanche of fruit with ease. Ash helped her start a giant tray of fruit, both of them wielding their knives with alarming speed and ferocity.

“- and then I jumped!” 

Darcy looked up with instinctive alarm as Mia leaped into the air. But Steve had already snatched her out of the air, Bucky and Marley both reaching for her as well. Shay and Adrian turned back to their respective pans, having moved quickly towards Mia. 

Steve dropped Mia in a heap in the chair beside Darcy. He kissed the top of her head and went to help the others. Darcy studied Mia, who was cheerfully reaching for Shay’s weapon belt on the counter.

Mia, who was more powerful than any of them had ever known. Who was growing up loved and safe and strong. Who jumped without looking because she knew there would always be someone there to catch her. 

Natasha herded the twins to the seats beside Mia in such a casual manner that they didn’t even realize they were being handled. Clint stayed within reach, hyper aware of the surge of anxiety that crossed their faces every time they lost sight of him. 

Adorable, that they’d become so attached to one of Shield’s most legendary agents. And heart wrenching, Darcy thought, at the surprise and overly gentle way Clint responded. Like he didn’t understand why they could stand to be near him, let alone want him. 

“This is Mia,” Darcy told them gently as she tugged a dagger from Mia’s hands. Mia sulked for a second before turning her attention to the twins. “Mia, did you meet Wanda and Pietro last night?” 

“Sort of,” Mia said with a shrug. The twins’ faces did something funny. Darcy decided not to ask. “Hi again. Do you like cats?” 

“...Yes,” Wanda said, so softly Darcy could barely hear her over the rest of the noise in the kitchen. 

“I have a cat. Her name is Nyx,” Mia said cheerfully, pointing. “She can get super big and eat monsters for me if I ask.” They all silently turned to look up at Nyx, prim and deceptively tiny, as she blinked at them from atop the cabinets. 

“She likes the high ground,” Natasha said with amusement when the twins blinked in astonishment at the purple-eyed cat. Clint, who was a frequent victim of her sneak attacks from above, narrowed his eyes at Nyx. She was unaffected. 

Jane slumped against the counter beside Darcy as Mia wriggled around sideways in her chair to talk to Wanda and Pietro. She ended up leaning back against Darcy, trusting her to not let her fall. Sometimes Mia’s freely given unconditional trust made Darcy’s heart hurt.

“Why were you and Adrian up so late?” Darcy asked Jane, winding an arm over Mia’s chest to keep the little girl steady. Mia hooked her chin over Darcy’s arm and kept talking. Whatever she was saying seemed to be working- the twins’ fear had faded in place of absolute, stark bewilderment. Cint was stifling a laugh. 

“Working on his latest project,” Jane said. She tapped her chin thoughtfully. “I think we made some progress.” 

“She thinks I’m using the wrong material,” Adrian shared, sliding plates across the bar to the kids first. Pietro stared at his full plate with wide, disbelieving eyes. Wanda looked equally taken aback, though that might have been caused by Mia shoving an entire pancake into her mouth at once. 

“What other material could possibly hold the magic, though?” Darcy asked, letting Mia free so the girl could devour her food. “You’ve already tried Celestial Bronze and Imperial Gold.” 

“Jane thinks Adamantine could work,” Adrian said with a shrug. 

Darcy frowned; was this another material she hadn’t known about? Jane explained. “It’s another immortal metal. It’s super strong and has held magic better than Celestial Bronze before. Hephaestus has used it a couple times that I know of. It’s extremely rare, though.” 

“Oh, yeah, my dad has a sword that’s half Adamantine, half Imperial Gold,” Ash told them. 

“Hermes?” Jane asked in surprise. “I didn’t know that.” 

Ash shrugged. “Most Adamantine weapons also have Imperial Gold in them, too. It’s not pure the way Hera’s throne is.” 

Realization dawned. “That’s where I’ve seen it before,” Darcy said. She’d been to Mount Olympus, had seen the throne of the Queen of the Gods. It had glittered a translucent white, like a cross between silver and diamonds. 

“Would Hera give us some?” Adrian asked. Darcy winced at the thought of asking Hera for anything. 

Ash choked on his coffee. “Not in a million years, buddy.” 

Jane looked thoughtful. “Think we could steal some from her throne?” It was Darcy’s turn to choke while Ash stared open-mouthed at Jane.

“Sure, if you want to be murdered in your sleep,” she coughed. 

“Nah, Hera’s more the brutally-dismembered-in-broad-daylight sort,” Ash said cheerfully. 

“That’s a no, then.” Adrian huffed and turned back to the stove. 

Darcy frowned. “Surely it’s not impossible to find. We can’t locate a source?” 

Ash cocked his head in consideration. “I’ll have to ask Dad to be sure, but I think I’ve heard rumors of a small vein of it somewhere north. Like, way north.” Something to worry about later, Darcy decided. 

Chatter filled the air during breakfast, quiet side discussions between groups often overlaid by Mia’s cheerful voice. She appeared to be steamrolling the twins, so that they were too distracted and baffled by her to remember to be afraid. 

Afterwards, though, Clint caught Natasha’s eye and then guided them out of the room under the guise of showing them the pool. Mia volunteered to lead the way and galloped down the hallway at top speed, Nyx at her heels. 

Darcy leaned against Bucky, who’d taken Mia’s vacated seat. Steve propped himself up on the back of their seats, a comforting warmth. 

Natasha met Darcy’s eyes. “You spoke with the witch.” 

“I did.” 

“I take it this time was more successful?”

“If by successful you mean Mia swatted her away like a pesky gnat, yeah.” Bucky snorted a quiet laugh. 

“It’s a very good thing,” Natasha said grimly, “that Mia is capable of keeping her at bay.” 

“What do you know?” Shay asked. She sat on the countertop, Marley standing between her legs with her arms crossed. 

Natasha looked out the window to where the kids were hesitantly splashing around with Mia. “I know this witch is capable of more than any of us know. I know she needs these kids for something, or maybe just wanted them with her because they’re the first of her new experiments.” 

She dragged her gaze back to the room. “I know she chained Koschei the Deathless for Marya Morevna, an impossible feat.” 

“Koschei the Deathless?” Ash frowned. “The Immortal, right? I’ve heard that story.” 

Natasha nodded. “He is a prominent figure in Russian folklore,” she said. “But he is also very real.” 

“A demigod?” Adrian wondered. 

“No one is certain, but he shares characteristics with Veliona’s children. He created a spell that prevented him from being killed.” 

Steve whistled lowly. “You think that’s what the witch is trying to accomplish?” 

“I think Marya Morevna had Koschei chained in her dungeon for months, if not longer, and kept close to death. If the witch really did chain him for her, it’s possible that Marya was extracting information for the witch regarding the spell.” 

“This Marya person, who is she?” 

“A warrior princess,” Ash explained. “Her husband found Koschei in the dungeon when Marya went to war, right? And set him free?” Shay made an exasperated sound, like she couldn’t believe he’d done something so stupid. Marley’s mouth curled upwards. 

Natasha nodded. “And then Koschei went after Marya in return.” 

Ash eyed her with misgiving. “The story says Ivan succeeded and killed Koschei.” 

“The story was wrong.” Ash grimaced, unsurprised. “Koschei’s body might have died when Ivan killed him, but the spell prevented complete loss of life. He came back, but it was years later. Marya died of old age before he returned.” 

Darcy rubbed at her face, thinking hard. “So if the witch chained Koschei and ordered Marya to discover this spell- or even the exact parameters of the spell, if she wanted to test how close to death one could be- and then found out that Ivan had killed Koschei, she might have given up on that option.” 

“Until Koschei popped back up decades later.” Bucky picked up her train of thought. “And then she realized his spell  _ had _ worked, and returned to her efforts in casting it.” 

Finally, some sense in this mess. “What do you think, Nat?” 

“It would explain why she seems to be looking for something. If this spell has special requirements, which I’m sure it does, then she has to be hunting down things that are not available to her in Russia. The deities there would be very careful to keep them out of her reach- not even they could kill Koschei, and they wouldn’t want another immortal demigod threatening their rule.” 

“So she may have followed you here to get the kids back, but she fully intended to come here anyway to find things for this spell,” Darcy pointed out. Natasha looked away, but there was a flash of relief in her eyes. It hadn’t been her fault that the witch had come. 

Bucky angled his head towards Darcy when Ash asked Natasha another question. “We still need to split up. If we’re hunting down the witch, those kids can’t be anywhere near us.” 

“Same for Nat,” Steve murmured, leaning in. “She’s too close to this, and the witch scares her.” 

A thought occurred to Darcy and she frowned, twisting around to stare at Bucky with concern. “This witch was involved in Hydra experiments,” she said with growing horror. “Did she ever... did you...” 

Bucky’s eyes grew dim. “No. Not that I can remember, anyway. I think... maybe she had something to do with the cryo, but by the time I was training Red Room operatives, they’d already left the camps the witch controlled. All I knew was that someone incredibly dangerous ran them, and that the demigods in the Red Room were the best of the best.” 

“So she was in charge of the demigod camps, tortured the campers- prisoners- and then sent off the ones who survived to Hydra?” 

“Sounds about right,” Bucky said quietly. Darcy tangled their fingers together when his eyes grew distant. Steve slid a hand along the tight line of Bucky’s shoulders, lingering until some of the tension faded. 

“Sorry, Buck,” Darcy murmured. 

He shook his head. “Don’t be. This is important, and one small detail can be the difference between winning and losing.” He squeezed her hand when she still looked worried. 

“We need to split up,” Darcy told the others. Their conversations stopped abruptly. “The witch can track me, so I can’t be anywhere near the twins. And I might be the only one who can meet her in a direct fight, so we need to get the kids to safety.” 

“The foster house,” Shay provided. “It’s the best protected place in the country thanks to Hestia’s kids.” She nudged Adrian pointedly with a foot. He caught her ankle so she’d quit kicking him and smiled at the floor. 

Clint opened the side door and leaned against the frame to listen, the twins too caught up with Mia’s bizarre game to worry about the distance between them. “I can take them back, if Jane opens a portal.” 

“I can do that,” Jane said with a shrug. “Easy. But I’m coming with you, Darce.” 

“So am I,” Adrian said. Shay and Marley were silent, but in a way that meant they would be doing what they wanted and no one would tell them differently. 

Ash chewed his lip. “I want to, but I think I might be needed at the foster house. Just in case she goes for it.” 

“That’d make me feel a lot better,” Darcy told him. “I’m worried about that, too, and Aya and Nico can’t be expected to keep New York under control on their own.” Tony was there, obviously, but he needed to worry about keeping the tower safe from the witch. 

“I should go with you,” Natasha said. Her face was expressionless, but Darcy saw the brittle way she held herself. 

“I think Wanda and Pietro need a guardian,” Darcy said carefully. “Clint’s there, obviously, but he can’t be expected to keep them safe alone if the witch comes after them.” 

“She’s got a point, Tasha,” Clint added. 

Darcy leaned forward. “Don’t feel obligated to do this, Nat. You and I both know this isn’t your fault, and that right now I’m the one best prepared to stop her.” She noticed Adrian frown and wander casually out of the room, but kept her focus on Natasha. 

“Fine,” Natasha said finally. “I’ll go with them."

Darcy tried not to let her relief show. Something told her that having Natasha within the witch’s grasp would be a very, very bad idea. “Then let’s get you guys home.” 

Clint, Natasha, the twins, and Ash left for New York via portal downstairs. Meanwhile, Darcy slipped out of the kitchen to find Adrian. 

“What’s that face for?” She asked, finding him in the spacious foyer. He was staring distantly at the front doors. 

His eyes darted down to her. “There are gods outside.” 

_ “Gods, _ as in more than one?” Darcy asked, eyes widening. He nodded. “How many?” 

Adrian cocked his head. “Three.” He winced at something only he could hear or feel. “And they want in. Now.” 


	13. Chapter 13

Darcy was entirely unsurprised to find Persephone waiting impatiently outside. She was certainly impatient enough to throw a minor tantrum about being kept waiting, and looked very displeased with the strength of Adrian’s Circle. 

“I see you’re not dead yet,” Persephone said, disinterested. 

“Good to see you, too,” Darcy muttered. The sky above was churning white and cloudy, a distant threat of snow if the chill in the air meant anything. It worried her- snow in California, this early in the winter months? It could only mean trouble.

She smiled at Hecate and then turned her attention to the tall, dark-skinned god standing at Persephone’s side. He was lean and muscular with a handsome, regal face and black hair that flowed to his shoulders. Darcy distractedly thought that he might be the most beautiful man she’d ever seen. He was timeless and noble, and, to her shock,  _ winged. _

Her breath caught in awe at the spectacular pair of wings extending from his back. They were massive, feathers glimmering in dark shades of blue, black, and purple. Each wing moved with the same fluid grace the rest of him did, shifting and rippling with every breath. 

“Darcy, this is Thanatos,” Hecate said in her low, smooth voice. “The God of Death.” 

“I come at Persephone’s behest,” Thanatos said. His voice was so deep she could feel it in her bones, a breath-taking tremor that rocked through her. He was the voice of death, and every molecule in her body was aware of his power. “My Queen believes you are capable of stopping this witch.” He looked politely skeptical. 

Darcy tore her gaze away from the flare of his wings- the wingspan stretching an easy thirty feet- and met honey-gold eyes that shone in his dark face. “Even if it kills me,” she agreed. She held the front door opened and waved them inside when Adrian dropped the Circle for them. “Besides, I have help from some pretty incredible people.” 

Persephone stalked inside without a backwards glance. Hecate and Thanatos followed more sedately and without the disdain. Thanatos folded his wings tightly against his back, the feathers positively glowing against his white toga. 

Most gods and goddesses had adopted a more modern fashion sense, keeping up with the rapidly evolving times. But a few still wore the regalia from Ancient Greece or Rome, a time when they’d had incomparable power. 

The God of Death, of course, likely retained his power throughout the centuries. Death was the one constant in time, and he the ruler of it as Hades’ right hand man and most trusted friend and advisor. 

In the hallway ahead, Mia skidded to a halt and stared at Thanatos with open-mouthed awe. Her eyes were as wide as saucers, olive skin streaked with dirt and scratches, black hair a riot of tangled curls. Nyx sat at her feet as always. Hecate herded Mia along before she could regain her voice. 

“Daughter, why are you covered in dirt?” Hecate asked as she shooed Mia ahead of her. 

Mia craned her neck around her mother to peer at Thanatos- or, more specifically, at his wings. “I tried to catch a raccoon outside,” she said distractedly, “but he ran away when I hugged him.” 

Darcy sighed in despair. “A  _ raccoon, _ Mia?” 

“Uh huh. He was cute, but then Nyx tried to eat him when he scratched me.” 

Nyx preened. Of course the Hell-cat would eat anything that tried to hurt Mia. Darcy was just glad the house was secluded from nosy neighbors. 

There was a glint of amusement in Thanatos’s eyes as he followed Persephone into the living room. Persephone stopped abruptly and studied the group. “Hm.” 

“What does that mean?” Darcy asked with mistrust. Steve and Bucky stood shoulder-to-shoulder by the windows and watched the newcomers warily. 

“A very thorough unit, here.” Persephone cocked her head. “Children of Athena, Hestia, Apollo, Ares, Hephaestus, and Hecate. Odd, that you’re so close despite your differences. I wonder at the Roman influence.” 

“Camp rivalries lose their significance after a while,” Shay said. “Especially in the Roman camp, where we’re separated into cohorts rather than cabins for our parents.” 

“No time for petty grudges and offenses when you’re all about to die,” Marley drawled. 

“It’s a bonding experience,” Darcy agreed. 

Jane, lounging on one of the chairs, muttered, “So glad I never went to Camp Jupiter.” Adrian made a face in agreement. 

“What are the Queen of the Underworld and the God of Death doing here?” Marley asked. 

Hecate turned from Mia and Nyx. “Persephone brought Thanatos to me. She believed that our combined knowledge might help determine the witch’s plans.” A crease formed between her brows. “She was right.” 

“With Thanatos’s help, Hecate was able to discern this invader’s plans.” Persephone inspected the wall of shelves with an air of boredom. 

Thanatos looked to Darcy. “She is attempting to regain her power.” 

Darcy had a brief moment of triumph (so she  _ had  _ been right), and then a horrible realization occurred to her. “So she doesn’t have her full power right now?” 

“She does not. When she broke her bonds in Russia, the cost was leaving her magic behind. It is tied to the land and her godly parent, after all. That magic does not extend here.” 

Darcy glanced at Hecate. “Is that why my dream-visions of her are in a snowy wasteland?” 

“I suspect so,” Hecate said. “Her magic, the true source of her full power, it all remains imprisoned in Russia. And in order to free that magic, she must perform a ritual on our land to grant her access to it.” 

“You know the ritual?” 

“I do.” Hecate paused, appeared uncomfortable. “But it is dark magic. The darkest I’ve seen in centuries.” 

“That’s why she needed my knowledge,” Thanatos said. “I see... many things, as the God of Death. I am aware of every attempt by mortal or immortal to harness death magic, and this witch has been attempting it for weeks. I know enough to see what’s she’s after, and how she plans to obtain it.” 

“What does she need for this ritual? Maybe we can stop her from- wait, that’s what my mom has been doing, isn’t it?” 

Thanatos tipped his head in acknowledgement. “Athena has been successful so far in out-thinking the witch, even without understanding what she needs or why.” There was a note of respect in his voice that made Persephone roll her eyes. 

“Before I explain this ritual, you must all swear on the River Styx to never use this information or this ritual.” Hecate looked at the room with hard eyes, wavering in Darcy’s vision as her magic swelled. 

“Of course,” Darcy said quietly. She swore, listened to the others to the same, and then took a seat beside Adrian. Steve and Bucky came up behind her in a wordless gesture of support. 

Hecate clasped her hands in front of her and began. “In order to free her magic, the witch must locate the following items for her spell. The heart of one whose trust you hold-” 

“I’m pretty sure she has that,” Darcy whispered, recalling the beating, bloody heart from the first vision. 

“I assume it belonged to the one who helped free her,” Hecate said unhappily. “As for the rest... She needs offspring of a god that reigns over her homeland, the soul of a hero, and the blood of the gods of this land. Heart, blood, soul, and body.”

“Blood of our gods,” Shay repeated thoughtfully. “Let me guess, any Greek or Roman demigod will suffice?” 

“I believe so, yes.” 

“That’s why she needed the twins so badly,” Darcy said. “Offspring of a Russian deity- powerful ones, too. Maybe they were meant to be used to boost her power.” 

“Or maybe she needed them for the Death Spell that Koschei used,” Bucky countered. “We still don’t know the specifics of that spell.” 

Darcy glanced up at him. “If she regains her full power, though, we’re fucked. We won’t be able to stand against her, not if what Natasha said was true.” 

“So, what, assume she’s going for her power first?” Jane asked. “That’s the logical first step. She must need it to perform the Death Spell.” 

“And the soul... does she already have that? How easy is it to take a soul from the Underworld? Or from Elysium, specifically?” Marley asked. She eyed Persephone warily when the room darkened abruptly with her scowl. 

“She may not need to steal it from the Underworld.” Thanatos spoke before Persephone could. “Not if she sacrifices a hero and consumes their soul before a reaper can collect it.” 

Darcy stood and began to pace. Anxiety rose and she tried to slap it down before it could gain any momentum.  _ Focus, _ she told herself sternly. “So by hunting down this witch, there’s a chance that we’re bringing her everything she needs to complete this ritual. The blood of a Greek or Roman demigod-” she gestured to the room- “and a couple of American heroes.” 

“I’m not-” Bucky broke off and scowled furiously at the ground. Steve stepped into him, ignoring their audience, and pressed his lips ever so gently to Bucky’s ear. He murmured something so soft that no one else could make it out, something that had the shattering tension easing from Bucky’s body. 

Darcy watched, chest tight, while Bucky rested his forehead briefly against Steve’s neck. She’d thought he was getting better about that knee-jerk self-hatred and shame. Obviously she hadn’t been paying close enough attention.

“You are,” Thanatos said gently. His wings blocked the light behind him, which gave off a halo of light around his magnificent feathers. “What was done to you is not your fault, and you will not be held responsible for the actions of evil men.” 

“Don’t argue with the God of Death, jerk,” Steve said softly when Bucky hesitated. “Your ma raised you better than that.” 

“Punk,” Bucky grumbled mutinously, but seemed to have no further argument. He looked at Thanatos with grateful eyes. The god dipped his head in acknowledgement. 

“So where is she going?” Shay asked when the silence stretched on for a beat too long. “Can we stop her? Or, like Darcy said, are we bringing her everything she wants if we do?” 

Hecate shared a look with Thanatos. “That is a risk we will have to take,” she said grimly. “The alternative is too dangerous to consider, especially if she succeeds.” 

The God of Death nodded. “She will need to be as close to her contained magic as she can while still remaining on our shores.” 

“That would be... what, Alaska?” Adrian asked. He shared an incredulous glance with Shay. “We have to go to Alaska?” 

“The Bering Strait is the shortest distance between our shores and Russia. She will remain out of the Russian deities’ reach, but still close enough to access her power after the ritual.” 

“That’s thousands of miles away,” Darcy pointed out. “How are we supposed to get there in time? I’m assuming Jane doesn’t have any portals that far north.” 

“No,” Jane said slowly. “But I think I know someone who can help us.” 

~*~ 

Darcy had never personally met Hephaestus, though as Jane’s friend and keeper she’d seen many of his creations- and his delight with Jane’s own creations. The portals in particular had impressed the god of forges, fire, technology, sculptors, volcanoes, and blacksmiths. With her god parent’s extensive abilities, it was no wonder that Jane was so incredibly competent. 

From Jane’s descriptions of him, she knew that Hephaestus was aloof, pragmatic, and extremely cynical. That much she understood- his life had been one miserable humiliation after another. He was often the joke of the Olympian family, and his gruff, bitter outlook a result of such treatment. 

Hera had taken one look at her deformed baby and thrown him from atop Mount Olympus in disgust. A kind-hearted Nereid- minor goddesses of the sea- found him and raised him for nine years. After those nine years he returned to Mount Olympus with new thrones for each of the gods, Hera’s designed to trap her in retaliation for her abuse. 

And later, Darcy knew, Hera ordered Aphrodite to marry him, as her great beauty was causing extreme conflict between the gods that all wanted her for their wife. Aphrodite considered this a punishment, a humiliation, and promptly started a centuries-long affair with Ares. 

So, yeah. She definitely understood why he was angry and bitter. Aphrodite flaunting her affair in his face and in front of all of Olympus would make anyone’s blood boil. 

Jane told her years ago that Hephaestus had given up on people, put his faith in machines instead. Machines would never disappoint, and even when they were broken they could still be fixed. 

And, judging by the size and clutter of his workshop, he’d taken that to heart. Darcy could only stare in awe at the thousands of machines and unidentifiable creations scattered around the massive room when she and Jane stepped out of a highly specialized portal in Hephaestus’s workshop- the portal that had taken three separate codes and a biometric scan to open. 

“If anyone else shows up unannounced and uninvited, there’s a chance he’ll set them on fire,” Jane muttered. “So stay close.” 

“I really wish you’d told me that  _ before  _ I agreed to come with you,” Darcy grumbled. The others had remained at the house, packing and preparing for the upcoming trip. Steve, she knew, would take the time to give Tony an update and also touch base with Natasha and Clint. Shay would reach out to Aya and Nico for her.

Jane grinned at her. “Yeah, I know.” She waved Darcy on. “This way.” They walked for what seemed like miles, following narrow, winding pathways lined with piles of metal and tools teetering dangerously above their heads. 

“Hello!” Jane bellowed. “Are you in here?” 

A massive shadow rose above them. Smoke billowed around the shape in roiling black clouds. “Who dares interrupt my work?” The voice was a deep, rumbling boom that made the workshop shudder. 

Jane rolled her eyes. “It’s just me, Dad, quit yelling.” 

There was a short beat of silence, and then, “Ah. Jane? Is that you?” The shadow turned towards them. Jane walked unerringly towards it. Darcy followed her around a corner and suddenly found herself looking up, up, up at a god standing nearly a hundred feet tall. She blinked at the lingering smoke in the air and found the God of the Forge to be abruptly human-sized. 

Hephaestus was still huge even when human-sized. His shoulders sat at different heights so that he always seemed to be leaning, and his head was bulging and misshapen. His leg bore a creaking steel brace and he walked with a pronounced limp. Underneath bushy eyebrows, piercing eyes seemed to flicker with a red-orange fire within. A wild brown beard sparked and burst into flames. He only growled in annoyance and patted it out. 

His face was red and covered in welts, as though he’d been dragged across gravel. He wore a jumpsuit smeared with grime and a permanent scowl. But it softened slightly when Jane came into view, looking tiny and fragile between mountains of material and tools. 

He glowered at Darcy. “Who are you?” 

“This is Darcy, Dad, don’t be a dick,” Jane said absently. She considered the closest pile of metals and then started to climb it. 

“Ah. One of Athena’s, I suppose.” He was distracted from staring suspiciously at Darcy by the small avalanche Jane caused in her quest for the peak. “What are you doing? Get down from there.” 

“Can’t, looking for something,” Jane responded distractedly. 

“I was  _ working,” _ Hephaestus grumbled. “Making a lot of progress, I’ll have you know.” He huffed when a wrench crashed to the floor dangerously close to him. “I can’t have you lot running around and wreaking havoc in my workshop.” 

Darcy noticed that, despite his complaints, he still kept a close eye on Jane’s progress. Small handholds appeared within Jane’s reach as she climbed, and other supports appeared when she slipped once. Darcy hid a smile. 

Jane reached the top and balanced carefully before standing to peer across the room. It took her a long time to find what she was looking for. Probably, Darcy thought as she and Hephaestus craned their necks to watch Jane, because this workshop was the size of a city. 

“Over there!” Jane said excitedly. She pointed somewhere across the room. “That’s what I need!” She scrambled down- much faster than she’d gone up- and skidded to a stop in front of Hephaestus. “Remember that time you said I could borrow from your workshop the next time I needed something?” 

“I most certainly do not,” Hephaestus said, appalled. 

Jane scowled ferociously at him. He glowered back at her. “You did, too, after I showed you the portals I created. You were extremely impressed because I’m a genius and it was something you’d never thought of before.” 

“That definitely doesn’t sound like something I’d say,” Hephaestus said. He sounded very cranky.

“Okay, you didn’t say that exactly, but it was close enough!” Jane threw a hand out towards Darcy. “We have to get to the Bering Strait to stop a crazy Russian death witch from regaining her magic and taking over Mount Olympus!”

Hephaestus cocked his head in thought, rubbing absently at his beard when it sparked again. “Hm. Yes, I believe Hermes said something of the sort the other day.” 

“I don’t have a portal that far north to get us there. But I remembered seeing something in your workshop a couple years ago- the ruined ship that you haven’t ever fixed.” Jane stared at him beseechingly. “Dad, help me rebuild it so we can stop her.” 

His frown deepened. “It has excessive damage. You’d be better off taking a ship from camp.” 

“The  _ Adiutrix  _ is the only ship at Camp Jupiter,” Jane argued. “You know the Roman navy sucks. Besides, we can’t leave Reyna without it. If they have to evacuate, she’ll need it to get kids out of camp safely.” 

“The  _ Paralos _ is old, Jane. We would have to-” Hephaestus broke off when Jane shoved a notebook at him. 

“I drew up some plans for it. The  _ Argo II _ was the Greek camp’s trireme, the only flying ship they had, and it was destroyed years ago. No one else has been able to rebuild one until the Roman’s  _ Adiutrix.” _

“Which you had a hand in, if I recall,” Darcy reminded her. “You sent them plans and concepts for it sometime after the Dark Elves in London. Don’t think I missed that.” She’d dealt with huge messenger eagles swooping out of nowhere for weeks on end. It got old fast.

Hephaestus was flipping through her notebook. “Hmph.” 

“It’s good, right?” Jane asked smugly. “So? Will you help us? C’mon, Dad, I’ve always wanted to build something with you, and now’s the chance!” 

Something crossed Hephaestus’s face, the expression gone before Darcy could identify the emotion behind it. She held her breath, waiting for the cranky god to throw them out. But then he sighed heavily, eyes eerily bright in his tanned face, and said, “Fine. We’ll build your flying ship.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lots of new gods in this fic & more to come!
> 
> Life has been terrible lately, hence the non-response to comments so far. Hoping to get around to that this weekend- we'll see ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯ I'll add a general and huge thank you here for all the comments so far- I really appreciate you guys sticking with this and love you all for being so supportive :)


	14. Chapter 14

Watching Hephaestus and Jane work together was all at once an awe-inspiring and terrifying experience. They communicated in sharp gestures and grunts, welded with their own fire-starting powers, and hefted hundred-pound pieces of wood with no visible effort. 

Darcy kept away from the initial fires, but eventually Jane handed her a blowtorch and a welding helmet and put her to work. This much Darcy was familiar with- she and Jane had kept the scientist’s machines in top shape for years, after all. 

She took a couple short breaks to check on the house and update them with their progress. Building the ship was taking far less time than she’d initially thought- and worried about. Jane and Hephaestus made short work of the bulk of the repairs. 

The finer details, such as how to get the ship into the air, took longer. 

“No, we can't put that there-” 

“This is a trireme, Jane, the sail is designed for maximum speed and stability-” 

“I know what it is, but I want to change the power source so we aren’t relying on oars. We aren’t going to  _ row  _ to Alaska, for fuck's sake.” 

“These ships were constructed to maximize all traits- speed, propulsion, strength, stability- and changing even  _ one  _ minor detail will compromise the design,” Hephaestus said impatiently. “If you alter the weight, the speed that this craft is capable of will cause damage to the ship’s integrity.” 

“On the water, sure, but this thing’s center of gravity is at the lowest possible position on the ship. Which is why it can resist heavy waves so well and prevents any rollover.” Jane wriggled down into the belly of the ship, disappearing into its depths. Her voice echoed back up as she continued. “But in this tiny space just beneath the center of gravity, between it and the waterline-” 

“The hypozomata.” Hephaestus nodded in understanding. He noticed Darcy’s blank stare. “It allows the hull to bend when faced with extreme force. It’s why these ships were so effective in war and when crossing deep sea.” 

“Anyway,” Jane shouted up at them, “that’s why this thing is perfect for flight. If I can install an anti-gravity piece down here, stabilize it with these beams, it’ll make up for the loss of weight when we take parts out. Then it won’t break apart when we hit high speeds in the air.” 

Darcy glanced up at the sail hanging limp against the mast, remembered the  _ Adiutrix’s  _ upgrades. “You’ll need to change the sail, though, to account for the atmospheric differences. Barometric pressure decreases the higher you are, which will affect our speed if we’re relying solely on air currents.” She frowned, considering. “Unless we get to a high enough altitude that the density drops.” 

Less density, less drag. That was why aircraft flew faster at higher altitudes when given the same thrust. Only problem was, this ship didn’t have any mechanical thrust. Which meant they might  _ have  _ to rely on air currents. 

Not a reassuring thought.

She looked back to see Hephaestus and Jane staring at her. “What?” She asked defensively. “I read.” 

“Hmph.” Hephaestus propped his hands on his hips. “She’s right. You’ll need a mechanical engine or you’ll have to ask one of those windy assholes for help.” 

“The Gods of the Winds?” Jane asked. She hopped out of the hole in the deck and frowned over at Darcy. “Think that’s worth a shot?” 

Darcy bit the corner of her mouth in thought. Boreas, she knew, was the God of the North Wind. The one they would need to ask- who was unfortunately currently residing in Quebec and also an asshole. 

The other option was Aeolus, the master of all the winds and the other Greek wind gods. He was in charge of all the north, south, east, and west winds, but he had been driven certifiably insane by the gods’ incessant weather demands over the centuries. They’d have better luck asking Zeus, who still hated Darcy’s family with a passion for their disrespect. 

“Bad idea,” she decided. They were already chancing a lightning bolt mid-flight by sailing into Zeus’s territory. 

“Yeah, okay,” Jane agreed. “I’ll build an engine. Got any airplane engine specs around here, Dad?” He pointed her to a large table piled with faded papers and blueprints. 

“The sail,” Hephaestus said over Jane’s heavy clanking. “You have any ideas?” 

This was a test, Darcy could tell by the casual note in his voice. But if he was paying her enough attention to bother with a test, that meant she’d impressed him enough so far.  

Darcy turned her attention to the ship. “You said this was a Greek warship?” 

“Mostly a messenger ship,” Hephaestus told her. “The fleet was designed and built by a group of my children in Ancient Greece- with a few of Athena’s spawn butting in.” 

“Must be why they worked so well,” she said mildly. He snorted a reluctant laugh. “They were called sacred ships, right?” Her early lessons were coming back to her. “Messenger ships or transport for special delegations.” 

“That’s right. This one,” he smoothed a hand over the faded paint on the side, “was the  _ Paralos.” _

Darcy sucked in a breath. “One of the first.” 

_ “The _ first,” Hephaestus corrected. “Built around 400 BC, in the human measure of time. It served for four decades. My son sent it to me after it was heavily damaged in a skirmish.” 

“And you don’t mind that we’re tearing it apart?” 

“Innovation always requires a certain amount of destruction.” He skimmed a hand over the mangled rail. “Change means dismantling present structures, once you’ve learned enough from the past. There’s always someone smarter, better, more creative that comes along and improves these things we consider final and perfect.” He looked expectantly at her. 

Darcy stepped back to study the ship. She pictured it whole and functional, not the disastrous mess it currently was. “Center of gravity is low,” she muttered to herself, pacing along the ship’s side. “To keep it stabilized. Mechanical propulsion renders the oars obsolete, so we’ll rely on sails to steer and maintain equilibrium.” 

She took a few more steps back, cocked her head in thought. “We move the center mast back by... let’s say four feet. One sail along the back side of it, like a fin. It’ll be the largest sail, used to steer.” She pointed as she spoke, visualizing the concept. “One smaller sail tied to the nose of the ship, a large second one extending vertically along the center. Tie it off to the top mast, give it layers to create wings if needed.” 

Darcy drew a T-shape in the air with an arched upper line. “So if we drop, or the engine fails, we won’t fall straight out of the sky. Or even to maintain our altitude if we have to stop for a while. Two sails snap out from the center, but that center sail stays bolted to the mast to keep the wings aligned and the rest of the ship streamlined in a current.” 

Jane was watching and listening now. She smiled at Darcy, visibly proud, and then told her father, “See? Told you she was brilliant.” 

“You can stay,” he said, grudgingly impressed. “I guess you’re not bad for one of Athena’s.” 

“He doesn’t like anyone,” Jane told Darcy in a stage whisper. “That’s high praise.” 

“Back to work!” He barked, stomping off. 

~*~ 

Two demigods and the God of the Forge, apparently, could build a flying ship in just under 24 hours. Darcy sat slumped against Jane, dozing from exhaustion. They’d worked hard and fast for 23 and a half hours, lifting hundreds of pounds of wood, rigging the specialized sails they’d carefully cut from other ruined ships in the workshop, and building Jane’s engine. 

Darcy had learned a few things in those 23 hours. For one- which she’d already known- Jane was a terrifying force of nature when faced with a project and a tight deadline. Especially when given unlimited tools and supplies. 

She’d also learned that Hephaestus bickered about _ everything,  _ even when he agreed with you. She saw that even while he grumbled and scowled through it all, his eyes were bright and interested, his steps lively. She’d learned that his laugh was loud enough to make the tools rattle off their workbenches, and that he could stop an avalanche of tools across a room before it crushed an unsuspecting, squishable demigod. 

“Damn, we’re good,” Darcy said tiredly, admiring the gleaming ship. 

“The effin’ best,” Jane mumbled against her shoulder, half-asleep. 

Heavy footsteps stopped in front of them. Hephaestus stared down at them, hands on his hips, and shook his head. “I thought you had a Russian death witch to stop.” 

Darcy swore with feeling as she and Jane scrambled to their feet. Hephaestus looked more impressed with her vulgar vocabulary than anything else she’d done since she’d arrived. 

Jane paused and stared up at the ship. “That won’t fit through my portal,” she said hesitantly, shooting her father a questioning look. 

Hephaestus sighed. “Fine, your little friends can come through here. But they’d better not touch anything!” He bellowed after her as she sprinted to the portal with a shouted, “Thanks!” 

He looked at Darcy. Then, with some reluctance, he told her, “I can send you through a different exit, if that will help.” 

“Different exit?” 

He made an impatient noise and pointed to the far wall. A few hundred feet across the room, a wide, dark tunnel seemed to swallow all surrounding light. “I can change the output of that tunnel to different exits from my workshop. The best I can do is Washington, though.” 

“That’s... holy shit, that would save us all the time it took us to build this thing!” 

“Settle down,” he grumbled. “I’m not doing it for you, I’m doing it for Jane.” 

“I appreciate that even more,” she told him seriously. 

He fidgeted. “And maybe this wasn’t the worst waste of time of the century. Just the decade, I guess. You aren’t as insufferable as some of Athena’s runts.”

Darcy fought a smile. “Your help has been invaluable. Thank you.” 

“Stop that,” he snapped, and stomped off to examine the boat with far more interest than it deserved. 

“Woah!” Mia’s voice echoed around the metal piles. Darcy glanced back, saw the little girl examining a wrench as long as she was tall. 

“No touching!” Hephaestus growled instantly. 

Mia blinked up at him with wide eyes. “How come you’re so tall? Is this your house? That’s so cool. I wish I lived here, I could climb all these mountains. Ooh! _I could_ _sled down them!”_

Darcy had a nightmarish flash of Mia sledding down a pile of metal and ending up buried under a scrap heap. “Absolutely not.” 

Mia sulked for a single second, then returned the full force of her attention on Hephaestus. “I liked your house, Mr. Hephaestus. It’s pretty cool.” He harrumphed at her. 

Steve appeared at Darcy's side. “She drank three sodas before any of us realized she’d been sneaking them out of the fridge,” he explained under his breath. 

“Oh, boy. That sugar rush will last a while.” Darcy resigned herself to an hour of stress while a hyper-active Mia bounded around a flying ship. 

“Were you up all night?” He asked, sweeping a gentle hand over her hair and then frowned. “Your hair is singed.” 

“It was almost my eyebrows, so be glad for my quick reflexes,” she said solemnly. 

He laughed and handed her a bag she’d packed during her brief visit back to the house roughly 12 hours ago. “Your armor and swords. Buck’s got your go-bag.” 

“You didn’t touch it, right?” 

“No. Don’t worry, we were careful.” He glanced up and stuttered to a stop. “What the- you  _ built  _ this?” Together, they looked at the Greek messenger and warship. Nearly eighty feet in length- approximately forty feet cut off by Jane to improve maneuverability- the  _ Paralos _ gleamed in the dim workshop. 

Thick wooden oars rested in their holds along the sides, left in place for weighted balance and steering. A Celestial Bronze-sheathed ram of a snarling wolf’s head was attached to the prow, a counterbalance to the off-center mast. The lighter wood of the ship’s body meant it was highly maneuverable at sea or in the air. 

They’d already fired it up multiple times during testing and had taken a few laps around the enormous workshop to assess the ship’s flexibility and response time. The chance of getting tossed around was higher in the air, they’d discovered, but the bronze ram provided extra weight that kept the ship’s nose from tilting uncontrollably in the air. 

“I helped build it,” she corrected. “But yeah. We used the bones of an old ship he had lying around- don't ask-” she said when he opened his mouth- “it’ll probably just freak you out to know any more than that.” They’d tested the flight mechanism a few more times during the night, and Darcy had been majorly freaked out by the age of the ship she’d been standing on. 

This ship had been used in wars as old as the gods themselves. And she’d taken a blowtorch to it. 

Mia was still following Hephaestus around, talking his ear off. Darcy left her to it when she saw Jane keeping an eye on them. Hopefully Mia wouldn’t annoy the ever-cranky god into doing something drastic to avoid socializing.

Shay and Marley came around the corner, followed by Adrian and Bucky. They each carried a number of bags that the combined weight of would send a normal human to the ground. “Food,” Shay explained as she passed Darcy. “And water, plus some supplies. Stark set up a pretty great weapons room for us.” 

“So many swords,” Marley said with a happy sigh. She wore two strapped to her back and had an absurd amount of knives strapped to her body. Shay was no better- most of her gleamed in the low lights, and she hadn’t even donned her armor yet. 

“That our ride?” Bucky asked. He studied the ship with open curiosity. 

“It is.” Darcy reached over and squeezed his hand. “I’ll give you a tour soon- Jane and I can teach you how to fly it.” Steve had quietly told her some time ago about Bucky’s open interest in technology, and she guessed a flying ship would be right up his alley. 

And would apparently remind Steve of some past event, if the heartbreaking smile on his face when he looked at Bucky meant anything. Bucky just stared at the ship with awe. 

“Storage is beneath the deck,” Darcy told the others. “We could only fit a couple cabins underneath, so it’ll be tight.” 

“We can trade off,” Marley said with a shrug. “Set up rotating patrols.” 

“And a few hammocks,” Shay added with excitement. “Dibs on sleeping on the deck!”

“No one’s gonna fight you on that, babe,” Marley told her. “Except maybe Mia.”

“What is wrong with you,” Adrian muttered at Shay. “We’re going to be flying through clouds.” They bickered their way to the ship and up the gangplank. 

“Now that’s an interesting piece.” The three of them turned to see Hephaestus squinting at Bucky’s metal arm. “Clever tech, but sloppy work attaching it.” 

Bucky swallowed, flexed his fingers. “I didn’t have much say in it.” 

A light of understanding appeared in Hephaestus’ eyes. He considered their group for a moment, between Bucky’s too-blank expression, Steve’s obvious worry for him, Darcy’s warning look. “I’m insulted to even look at it, actually,” he said finally. “Have that one-” he pointed at Darcy, to her utter surprise- “bring you back sometime, we’ll build you something better.” 

Behind him, Jane’s jaw dropped. Darcy couldn’t fault her, since hers had done the same. An offer like that, she felt, would come once a millennia from this god. Especially for a human. “I… Okay. We’ll do that,” she said faintly. 

Mia galloped over. “Look, look!” She whirled around to show off a small, scarred leather backpack. Nyx poked her head out of it and meowed at them, then burrowed back into her nest. “And!” She spun around again and pointed to the small tool belt wrapped around her waist. 

Darcy eyed Hephaestus. He shrugged and looked away, embarrassed. “Never too young to learn,” he mumbled. She fought valiantly against a grin. Evidently there was no one her girl couldn’t get to. 

“Darce, we gotta go!” Marley shouted. 

“C’mon, kiddo.” Steve swung Mia into his arms before she could run off again and get lost. “We have a ship to fly.” He and Bucky jogged off. Darcy paused, opened her mouth to thank Hephaestus again. 

“Go away,” he ordered. She shook her head with a smile and obeyed. 

Jane tossed him a small device from her pocket. “For the next time Aphrodite and Ares need to be humiliated,” she said under her breath. “I built this one special for you.” 

Amused, Hephaestus waited until they were all on the ship to adjust the tunnel to the Washington exit. “Fire it up, Jane!”

The ship roared to life. Jane climbed out of the belly of the ship and took the wheel. She pointed to the rows of seats lined along the oars. “Buckle in!” They hurriedly obeyed. 

As Jane launched them towards the tunnel, Darcy glanced back in time for one last glimpse of Hephaestus as he watched them fly away. 

He was still human-sized, standing between piles of scraps and lumbar in the lonely, too-quiet room. Her last thought before the tunnel swallowed their ship was that he looked far too small standing alone in the colossal workshop he called home. 


	15. Chapter 15

“Don’t get any ideas,” Darcy teased. Steve glanced back at her from the rail of the ship, where he’d been peering over the edge. Bucky laughed quietly at his side. 

“Am I ever going to live that down?” Steve asked, his mouth curling into a smile as she strolled over to them. The  _ Paralos _  soared through the wine-dark sky, an ocean of stars so close Darcy thought she might be able to reach out and touch one, let starlight slip through her fingers like silk. 

There was something truly magical about flying this high, unrestrained and wide open. Terrifying, sure, with the ground so far below and no real barrier between them and certain death. But it was easy to look past that and focus on the dreamworld of eternity surrounding them, something endless and ephemeral all at once. 

“Probably not,” Darcy told him, not sympathetic in the least. Bucky tipped his head in agreement, pressed along Steve’s other side with his hands shoved into the pockets of his black tactical pants. 

“How come we aren’t icicles?” Bucky wondered as they sailed through a passing cloud with no change in temperature or moisture on the deck. 

“Magic,” Darcy said seriously. They eyed her doubtfully, familiar with her attempts to tease them with the unknown world of the divine. She cracked a grin at their twin suspicious expressions. “It actually is magic this time. Hephaestus used some of his divine mojo to spare us from that miserable fate.” 

“Remind me to thank him for that,” Steve murmured. 

She would, assuming they all lived. Darcy sighed and slumped into him for comfort, done with her part of the patrol for the time being. 

High above in the rigging, Shay inspected the ropes and sails for damages at Jane’s request. She walked with the ease of an acrobat along weaving ropes, quickly dropping back to the deck in a controlled fall. She landed lightly beside Jane on the top deck, who stood by the wheel and fin controls as she navigated. 

Darcy frowned when Shay spoke softly to Jane, said something that made her brow furrow and her attention turn to the upper rigging of the ship. 

“Something wrong?” Bucky asked, following Darcy’s gaze. 

“I don’t know,” she murmured. Marley and Adrian were asleep below deck with Mia, who’d finally crashed after giving everyone else far too many heart-stopping moments as she flung herself around the ship at breakneck speed.

Shay noticed their attention and gave Darcy a signal from their days in the Roman army.  _ All-clear, _  it meant,  _ but eyes up. _  She adjusted her bow to hang off her shoulder and disappeared below decks.

“The hell was that supposed to mean?” Steve asked, squinting after Shay. 

Darcy grinned despite the  simmer  of worry in her gut. “We’re okay; just something that has their guard up. All our signals originate from Ancient Greek, remember? Shay and I have a shorthand signals based off of Greek words or phrases.” 

Bucky leaned back against the rail, one hand captured absently by Steve. “Why not Roman?” 

“War games in a Roman camp meant we needed an edge. Not many of the campers at that point had been to both, so most of them weren’t overly familiar with Greek. Worked pretty well, actually, enough that Reyna incorporated some of it in the Fulminata’s training.” 

A sleepy-eyed Mia stumbled onto the deck, hair a wild halo around her head. She walked straight into Darcy and clung tightly to her. Darcy swept a hand along her back, love and reassurance in the gesture. “Why are you up, baby? It’s the middle of the night.” 

“Bad dream,” Mia mumbled, pressing closer. “Didn’t like it.” 

“What kind of bad dream?” Steve asked, crouching down to her level. He was unnaturally warm in the cool night air and Darcy had to resist the urge to plaster herself against him. 

Mia pried open one eye to look at him in consideration. “It was weird. You’re really warm,” she said, inching closer to him. “How come?” 

Steve shrugged. “Maybe it’s the serum. I don’t know for sure, but Buck and I both run pretty hot.” 

Mia mulled this over for a moment and then decided, “Hold me.” Steve huffed a laugh and obeyed, sweeping her into his arms and letting her cuddle close. Her eyes drifted closed, surrounded by warmth and safety. 

Shay returned, this time carrying a violin case. She shrugged at Jane’s look of disbelief. “I found one in Stark’s basement. Decided to borrow it.” 

“Borrowing implies you’ll give it back,” Darcy pointed out, but she was smiling as Shay opened the case and the bow hovered above the strings of the instrument. Besides, Darcy had a suspicion that Tony bought that violin for Shay in the case that she was ever in California without one. He was secretly a softie like that.

“We’ll see if it’s worth keeping,” Shay decided, and began to play a slow, haunting melody. 

Adrian joined them only seconds later, rubbing his eyes. “Ugh. That song’s creepy, Shay, play something else.” She rolled her eyes but obeyed, switching to an upbeat, lively tune.

A vibranium hand appeared in Darcy’s vision. Startled, she looked up to see Bucky smiling down at her. “May I have this dance?”

“I’m a terrible dancer,” she reminded him, a smile growing across her face. 

He quirked a grin at her. “Oh, I know. You can stand on my feet, if it helps.” 

“It’s your funeral,” Darcy said dryly as she accepted his hand. She let out a yelp of surprise when he immediately twirled her around. 

As it turned out, standing on his feet did help. “It’s ‘cause you aren’t trying to lead anymore,” he told her when she was obviously delighted by the lack of stumbling or tripping. Or cursing. Or broken furniture.

“I do not try to lead,” she said, indignant. 

“Do too,” Steve called. “Who knows  _ why  _ you try to lead, when you obviously don’t have a clue what you’re doin’.” Bucky laughed against her, happiness lighting his eyes a vibrant blue. 

“Alright, no more comments from the peanut gallery,” Darcy grumbled. Mia demanded to be put down so she could show off her ballet skills, so Steve lured Jane out of hiding to join them. Adrian sat at Shay’s side, leaning against her and watching them with a smile on his face.

Darcy let Bucky wrap an arm tighter around her waist, pinning her firmly against his body. His arm rested across the small of her back, sending a thrill through her with every brush against her weak spot. He grinned at her suggestive interest __ and spun them across the deck. She laughed helplessly, the world becoming a dizzying, whirling cocoon of glittering stars and wispy clouds. 

They danced for hours under a cloak of luminous, blazing stars hanging from an obsidian sky. Darcy breathed in the night’s wintry air and treasured the moment of serenity, knowing it wouldn’t last forever. 

~*~ 

“It doesn’t make sense.” Jane’s frustrated voice floated up from the belly of the ship. Darcy leaned over the rail of the narrow staircase leading to the engine room to hear better. “Another piece of the engine froze over.” 

Darcy frowned. “How is that possible? I thought Hephaestus shielded the ship from that kind of damage.” 

“He did.” Jane clambered around in the engine room. A cacophony of noises- metal clanging, growls from the engine, shrieks of highly pressurized air and steam- drowned out her next words. Darcy waited patiently as a tell-tale  _ whoosh  _ sounded next, Jane’s fire powers set free to melt the frozen pieces once again. 

Jane’s head popped out of the room so she could scowl in Darcy’s general direction. “Well?” 

“Well what?” 

“I asked if you found anything else on your rounds.” 

Darcy shook her head. “No. Shay said the top of the mast was a little icy, but nothing major.” Evidently last night she’d discovered the rigging designed to keep the sails tied to the mast had iced over, threatening the functionality of the ship. 

Jane stared into space, thinking. “What are the odds that this is just chance? High altitudes? That my dad’s magic skipped over parts of the ship like the sails and the engine.” 

Darcy crossed her arms. “Slim to none, Janie.” 

She blew out a long breath. “Yeah, that’s what I thought, too. You think someone’s tailing us?”

“It stands to reason that Eris had other allies,” Darcy pointed out. “And that they’re still invested in seeing that we fail.” 

Bucky swung down to join them, having overheard her comment as he exited the cabin. “Would Eris have found this witch? Promised to free her in return for support?” 

“We never found any evidence of other alliances, but Eris would have kept some of them secret- both with foreign gods and the Greeks.” 

“The witch isn’t a god,” Jane reminded her. 

“She’s close enough, in Russia. I bet Eris would find it very amusing to unseat foreign gods and replace them with a half-blooded witch.” 

“And if we didn’t find all of her allies here…” Bucky said slowly. 

“Then they may have joined the witch’s cause,” Darcy finished grimly. 

But she knew the Greek and Roman gods well, had spent years fighting against and for many of them. She could guess the most likely culprits, the ones who would benefit the most from a regime change. 

So when they heard shouting from the deck, when they sprinted up the stairs and found a whirlwind of snow and ice wrecking the ship, she was unsurprised to find Khione standing in the center of the storm. 

The goddess of snow met Darcy’s eyes.  Her long black hair danced in the harsh winds of the storm, eyes bright with malicious glee against pale skin. B lue-black lips spread into a wide, smug smile as monsters made of ice attacked with vicious intent.  Khione  herself dissolved into flurries of snow only seconds after they burst onto the deck.

The ice monsters were heavily built, with thick, powerful limbs and chipped faces. They carried swords of carved ice, so viciously cold that she could practically feel the frostbite emanating from the weapons. 

Darcy cursed, low and vicious as she dropped to the ground and rolled underneath a heavy sword. Her armor was downstairs, as were her Stygian Iron swords, but she felt the familiar burn of metal in her pocket- her Imperial Gold sword had found her once again.

Steve’s shield flashed briefly through her sight before the blizzard swallowed it again. So Steve was somewhere on the deck, presumably fighting. And fuck, she hoped Mia was somewhere safe. But it was too hard to see through the storm to tell for sure. 

Darcy blocked a strike with her sword, gasping at the ice creature’s unexpected strength and blast of burning cold pain that seared through her weapon. But it lasted only a moment, sliding off of her skin without leaving any damage. She grinned victoriously, kicked it away and straight into a blast of fire that had to be Jane. 

All of a sudden the ship tilted dangerously, sent her staggering until a patch of ice took her feet from beneath her. The side rail caught her hard in the stomach before she fell, punching the air out of her lungs but also very helpfully saving her life. Her sword was nearly launched out of her hand, saved by Aegis’s sudden lunge for the pommel. 

The sails, she realized. The left side had collapsed, the ties frozen and snapped clean off. Jane was still guarding the doorway to keep their attackers out of the engine room- but Darcy was remembering the extent of  Khione’s  powers. 

Obviously, she had divine power over snow and ice. Blizzards were apparently her specialty, evidenced by the blinding storm all around them. Her father was Boreas, which meant she also had control over winds. 

Most concerning, though, would be the goddess’s capability for a cold nuclear blast that would tear their ship to pieces if used. And she _hated_ Hephaestus’s kids, at least the ones with fire powers, thanks to Leo Valdez's disastrous meeting with her when their powers clashed... Powers of fire and heat that  Khione  could detect, could track easily. Which meant  Khione  would consider Jane the greatest threat, would go for her first. 

Fire suddenly roared above the screaming of the snowstorm, as though Jane had heard her thoughts. The wind shrieked in response and Darcy had a feeling that, somewhere on the deck, the goddess had directed the full force of her fury at Jane. 

“Left flank!” Darcy heard Marley bellow from somewhere behind her. “Barnes, duck!” There was a small, contained explosion, and then Bucky’s voice raised over the storm, “Direct hit! There’s more of ‘em, at your four o’clock!” 

Two accounted for, she thought with desperate relief. A bright gold arrow flew past her, so close that she felt the shift in the air as it brushed an inch away from her ear. It landed between the eyes of another monster that suddenly materialized in front of her. Shay must have some visibility, then- she would never shoot blind with her own people in the midst of the storm. 

Chances were she found high ground. Which left Steve, Adrian, and Mia. Darcy gripped her sword, activated Aegis, and began systematically destroying every monster unfortunate enough to cross her path. 

She fought from one side of the boat to the back, working her way carefully through the storm. She stumbled over Adrian, who was bleeding heavily from a cut on his head but was using every ounce of his focus to maintain a small Circle around him and Mia. 

Holding the Circle on unstable ground (as the ship was still flying through the air) was taking a lot out of him. Too much, if the sickly pallor to his skin and glassy eyes said anything. But he was giving Mia the freedom to cast illusions on the ice creatures, tricking them with dimensions of the ship and sending them unwittingly overboard. 

“Good job, Mia!” Darcy shouted, watching two ice monsters charge straight off the boat, swords raised. Stark relief showed on Adrian and Mia’s faces at the sight of her. She glanced up, catching a flash of gold in the edge of her vision. 

Shay fired her bow with brutal efficiency from above, her golden armor flashing from hints of sunlight peeking through the waning storm. The daughter of Apollo, using her own sunlight magic to disrupt the blizzard and find their enemies. 

A large presence loomed behind her, drifting from the blizzard like a shadow separating from its owner. Only the sudden warmth at her back stopped her from cutting him down. “Steve,” she said, the terrible knot of anxiety in her chest unwinding. 

“You’re okay?” He asked over the storm, flushed red and breathing hard. She nodded. “Bucky?” 

“With Marley, blowing things up,” she shouted back, pointing in their direction. He nodded once in understanding, visually checked Mia and Adrian over, and then went to find the others. Shay pivoted overhead to light the way and give him cover. 

Darcy took a deep breath and went to find Jane. 

It wasn’t hard- she just followed the fire and the angry shouting.  Khione  was shrieking in rage, she realized, and made a quick detour to the cabin where her armor and Stygian Iron swords were stashed. The drakon hide armor settled over her skin like a shadow and with reassuring menace. 

The swords were glowing softly, urgently, in the dim cabin. She wrapped the chain around her body, relieved when it worked the way it had for Persephone, and then returned to the chaos. 

This time the cold was less of a slap, tempered by Jane's fire and a weakened goddess. The chill was chased away by her armor, and she slipped through the storm like a wraith through the night. 

Darcy felt the Aegis wind his way up to her bicep, clinging tightly to her arm as she fought her way to Jane. Monsters crumbled at a single cut from her swords, the ice hissing like a tea kettle as they melted into nothing. 

Stygian Iron made  Khione’s  magic look like child’s play, the lingering effects from the River Styx searing through everything it touched.  Khione  was considered a lesser goddess, but Darcy was still surprised at the ease in which was able to cut down the goddess’s fighters. 

The blizzard had slowed to a half-hearted tornado around  Khione  and Jane. Darcy fought her way through it to Jane’s side. Her friend’s skin radiated heat- all around them, snow melted or evaporated entirely. 

“She’s used to fighting younger demigods,” Jane said with satisfaction. “Kids with barely any control of their powers.” 

“Bet you were a hell of a surprise, then.” Darcy returned  Khione’s  smug grin from earlier, enjoying the flash of temper in the goddess’s eyes in response. “Your little army is nothing but puddles now, Khione. I suggest you leave before Jane sets you on fire for fucking with her boat.” 

“Our boat,” Jane insisted, but fire danced above her outstretched palms in warning.  Khione’s  attention rested warily on the flames, but it was the sight of Darcy’s pitch black swords that truly gave her pause. 

“You’ll fail,”  Khione  hissed. “She’s too strong for any of you to stand a chance.” Darcy noticed with interest the way her eyes drifted back to the Stygian Iron swords. Concern because they actually _might_ stand a chance against the witch? 

“Like we failed against Eris?” And there it was- a flicker of something across her face, gone so fast she might have imagined it. It meant little now, other than answering a question Darcy'd been coming back to for a year now. “Thought so.” 

“If we’re doomed to fail, how about you just leave us alone to do so?” Jane asked, voice polite in contrast to the building fire in her hands. 

An ugly sneer was the response. “You’re all going to die, and I can’t wait to watch.” With that parting note,  Khione  burst into snow flurries that were carried away by the wind. 

There was a beat of silence, too-quiet after the insanity of the storm and fight. “What a bitch,” Jane said finally. 

“Seriously,” Darcy muttered. She sheathed her swords and looked across the ship to see the others catching their breath. “This could have gone very badly.” 

“Don’t be so sure it hasn’t already,” Jane said, worried as she inspected the damage. “We’re going to have to land for repairs,  Darce . Can’t fix that sail up here.” She was right- they were flying at a steep angle, the ship tilted sharply to the side. 

“Fuck,” Darcy breathed. Jane waited, chewing anxiously on her lip. “Alright. Land it.” 

Jane started for the controls. “If we’re lucky, we won’t be attacked on the ground, too.” 

“Since when are we ever lucky?” Darcy called after her. 

“Since right now, hopefully!” 

“I won’t hold my breath,” she grumbled, and went to check on her family.


	16. Chapter 16

The world was still and silent. Darcy tasted salt on the air, heard waves lap gently at the ship’s sides, rocking them gently in the water. Her breath fogged with every exhale and she could feel the cold biting at her exposed skin. Nose and cheeks pink from the cruel winds, a crackle of ice heard further out, past the low fog that had rolled in early that morning. 

They’d been at a standstill for nearly 12 hours now, the first hints of dawn creeping over the horizon, rays of pink and blue and purple spearing through the white mists. 

Something clanged loudly from below. It was immediately followed by an impressive array of curses that floated from the belly of the ship. Jane’s voice was snarling, livid, and tampered by exhaustion. 

Mia had solemnly offered her tool belt and only left Jane’s side when the heat grew unbearable. Evidently the damages required welding and no one could withstand Jane’s fire. 

Now the little girl leaned precariously over the edge of the ship, playing games with the curious seals who’d come to investigate the intruder to their waters. Shay stood close by, one hand hooked through Mia’s backpack so she wouldn’t tip overboard. 

Marley was sleeping off her all-night patrol in one of the cabins below and Adrian had disappeared in the mist on the upper deck. He’d been quiet all morning, brow furrowed as he stared out across the water. Darcy was giving him another couple hours of brooding before she pried it out of him. 

Steve stepped up to her side, blasting heat like a furnace. She made a relieved noise low in her throat and cuddled close. A glance at his face showed the same worry that had been on Adrian’s. “What is it?” 

His head tipped down at the sound of her voice, but his eyes never left the horizon. He was tracking something, she realized. Watching a flurry of black shapes darting and swooping through the fog, their calls low and indignant. 

She squinted at them. “Crows?”  

“Don’t say it,” Bucky warned from behind them. She twisted to see a faint glint of amusement in his eyes as he nudged Steve with an elbow. 

“C’mon, Buck,” Steve complained. “You were thinkin’ it, too.” 

“Was not.” 

She looked between them. “Thinking what?” 

Steve’s arm tightened around her, though it didn’t appear to be a conscious decision. “Just… the crows,” he murmured. “Some would call it a sign.” 

Bucky grumbled. “Just you Irish.” 

“A sign from who?” She knew Steve’s parents had been poor Irish immigrants. That he’d grown up with far different stories than she had- even though hers hadn’t been stories, not really. She wondered if he had been questioning the truths of his own stories after the recent Greek revelation. 

“Mór-Ríoghain.” The name rolled off his tongue, smooth and dark and deadly. The wind was suddenly sharp, fierce. Sails rustled above their heads. “The Phantom Queen.” 

“Celtic, right?” 

“That’s right,” Bucky answered. “The Morrigan. Scary lady.” 

“The queen of war and fate,” Steve said softly. His voice floated over abruptly still waters, echoes fading away in the eerie white mists that suddenly looked a lot like smoke curling off of a war-torn battlefield. “She could send men into war frenzies, foretold doom, death, or victory in battle.” 

She frowned. “How do you know which one she’s foretelling?” 

Steve smiled, grimly amused. “You don’t.” 

“Yeah, that checks out,” she sighed. 

He huffed a laugh, eyes drawn back to the crows now hovering pointedly close to the ship. “She could shapeshift,” he murmured. “Into badb. The crow.” 

“We’re a long way from her shores,” Bucky pointed out, but he was watching the crows closely, too. 

Darcy blew out a breath, spooked despite herself. “All it takes is faith,” she told them, “for a god to remain. It’s how the Greek and Roman gods still exist- their children believe in them. Without us, they’d fade away.” 

“Could the faith of one man draw a god so far from home?” Bucky wondered. 

“Maybe not. But then again, we all carry our faith with us wherever we go. That means something.” 

“It does.” Steve glanced down at her, smiled. “If it helps any, she was also widely regarded as a guardian of her land and people.” 

It wasn’t as reassuring as he seemed to believe. She knew deities better than he, knew they would sip from that golden soul until there was nothing left to give. For any goddess would look at a man like Steve Rogers and his steadfast faith and see an  _ anchor. _ A sanctuary of righteous, devout nobility. A shelter in a world slipping out of her control, her power waning with the death of every believer. 

“I thought they were sisters,” she said, leaving her bleak thoughts unspoken. “Three of them.” 

“Badb, Macha, and Nemain,” Bucky said. He raised a brow at Steve’s surprised look. “What? I listen.” Steve’s mouth curled up at the corners.

“Three names for the same goddess,” he told Darcy. “That’s what Ma always said, anyway.” 

They were silent for a long moment, pondering his words. Considering the crows circling the ship like obsidian stones tumbling through a cloud. Until the ship gave an awkward lurch, destroying the ominous quiet that had crept in. 

“Jane?” Darcy called, wary. 

“We’re good!” She shouted back. Jane scrambled up the stairs, clothes singed and face streaked with oil and grease and ash. But she was grinning victoriously as she made for the control deck. “We’re back in the air in three… two… one.”

Shay snatched Mia back from the edge, planted her feet to keep them both steady as the ship glided over the water before lifting into the air with some reluctance. 

Steve was quiet, thoughtful. As though something deep and dark and divine had rested its hand briefly over his heart, had brushed against his conscious during those moments of introspection. 

A celestial entity, reaching for her devoted soldier. 

Darcy clutched him a little tighter. The attention of any god rarely meant good things for their chosen warriors. The divine cared little for the broken things their chosen path left behind. 

~*~ 

“Reminds me of that shitty apartment,” Bucky said sleepily. “Sleepin’ on the floor ‘cause anything was better than that stupid bed.” 

Steve chuckled in the soft light of the cabin, crammed between Bucky and the wall on the narrow bed. Darcy was draped over Bucky, held close by a firm arm around her waist. Steve’s free hand rested on the back of the thigh she had hooked around Bucky’s waist, his thumb rubbing small circles that made her shiver. 

She adjusted her position, tucking her face into Bucky’s neck. He smelled like the soap from the small shower in the rear of the ship’s belly. 

“Still better than the tents on the front,” Steve countered. “Nothin’ like sleepin’ on a bunch of rocks.” 

“Been there,” Darcy muttered. “And I’ll raise you sleeping at the base of a mountain that was about to crumble. Rocks. Fire. Drakons. Lots of scattered weapons.” Gods, she hoped to never return to that stupid mountain. 

“Drakons, huh?” Steve’s hand squeezed her thigh, fingers creeping higher. Her mouth went dry. “Try Dum-Dum losing track of explosives all the time.” 

Bucky shook his head. “Wakin’ up with ‘em under his pillow, in his pockets, under the seat of the trucks. Gave us all hives.” She muffled a laugh into his shoulder. 

Steve’s thumb swept along the curve of her ass. She propped her head up to stare incredulously at him. “Steven.” 

“Hm?” His mouth was curving into a wide smile, blue eyes wicked as his fingers brushed against her core. 

“We have three inches of space on this bed,” she lectured. “You can’t be serious.” 

“‘M always serious about this.” This time his hand dipped lower. Bucky jerked underneath her with a low curse and leveled a warning look at him. Steve just grinned, propped up on one arm. He tipped his head to the side. “Problem?” 

Bucky made an exasperated noise that quickly turned into a low groan. Darcy shook her head at them, but the soft noises coming from Bucky’s throat had heat building between her legs. Steve noticed, because he always noticed these things, but he just watched her with half-lidded eyes. 

She stretched forward to lick into Bucky’s mouth when he whined. One big hand came up to cup her head, holding her captive as his tongue swept into her mouth, brushing against her own and making her shiver. 

“Sit up,” Steve murmured. Distractedly, they obeyed, Bucky squirming up the bed until he was reclining back, Darcy pressed against his side. 

Until hands clamped down on her hips and dragged her back down the bed. She swallowed a yelp, head dropping low when Steve’s clever fingers found their way under her waistband. He grew impatient with the restricted access and unzipped her pants, yanking them down until they were bunched around her thighs to bare her to him. 

She hissed when his fingers dipped into the wet heat pooled between her legs. Shivered in anticipation when his zipper sounded too loudly in the quiet room, his own pants shoved down around his knees where he stood behind her. 

“Suck him off,” Steve ordered, low and firm. He played with her clit, getting her wetter, hotter.

Bucky had to help her unbuckle his pants and shove them out of the way, just low enough that she could pull his cock out. His head dropped back with a groan when she traced the vein from base to tip, tongue flicking across the slit. 

He rested a hand on her head, not pressing, not holding. Just tangled his fingers in her hair and held on when she swallowed him down. 

She could only whine when Steve buried himself to the hilt in her. The stretch was unexpected but welcome all the same, sending sparks of heat up her spine and curling low in her belly. “Okay?” He panted. She could only imagine what he looked like behind her, broad shoulders and narrow hips and the flex of his abdomen as he rolled his hips carefully against hers. 

She hummed around the cock in her mouth, which made Bucky swear desperately and try not to thrash. Darcy opened her jaw a little more and let him fuck her throat slowly, at odds with the steady, brutal pace Steve had set. He split her open on his cock, pressing so deep into her cunt that she saw stars behind her eyelids with every thrust. 

Darcy couldn’t do anything but take it, pinned between them and slowly being fucked into oblivion. Steve pulled her hips up until he was hitting a spot that made her fingers curl, made her nails leave crescent moon shaped marks on Bucky’s hips. 

The bite of muted pain seemed to be all he needed, because seconds later he was gasping and spilling down her throat. She swallowed, kept working her tongue against him until he twitched, oversensitive. 

She pulled off, pressing open-mouthed kisses along his lower belly as Steve drove them both to the edge, rubbed at her clit until she was coming, the tight grip of her cunt sending him over only seconds later. 

He pulled out slowly, shushing her when she grumbled. “There,” he said, smug. “No mess.” 

“Yes mess,” she said, feeling come dripping down her thighs. Steve glanced around, snatched up a towel from the floor and gently wiped her clean. 

“That was my towel,” Bucky muttered, one arm thrown over his eyes. 

“I’ll share,” she promised. 

He peeked an eye open at her. “Oh, yeah?” 

“If you’re good,” she said with mock sternness. Not that the shower was big enough to share, anyway. But they could make it work. She squirmed around to get her pants back around her waist, kneeling over Bucky so that he could do the same. 

Steve collapsed heavily on the bed and nearly sent them both sprawling to the floor. Bucky managed to catch her before she was unceremoniously tossed off of him. “Fucking- Show some manners, punk!” 

“Sorry, sorry,” Steve laughed. He tugged her back to safety, eyes bright. 

“He looks so pleased with himself,” Bucky muttered with disgust. Darcy laughed and let him pull her close. Steve waited patiently while she squirmed around to get comfortable and then dragged the blanket over them. 

She slept deeply, easily explained away by the exhausting events of the past few days if it weren’t for the odd tingle along the back of her neck, that sixth sense telling her that things weren’t quite as they seemed. 

But the dream didn’t morph into a barren wasteland, the witch didn’t pull on those invisible threads that connected them. 

Instead Darcy saw Natasha, pale and drained in the foster house. Clint stood close, one hand on her shoulder, head bowed low as he spoke to her too quietly for Darcy to hear. Nat wore loose, comfortable clothes and her face was bare of any makeup. Her usual armors stripped away, leaving only the woman of a thousand layers. 

“This is a waste of time,” Natasha ground out. “I can’t just sit around here while they’re off-” 

“None of them blame you.” Clint’s interruption was unrelated, or so Darcy thought. At his words Natasha’s breath hitched ever so slightly. “Don’t be stupid, Tasha. It isn’t your fault she came here.” 

“You know what she did to me.” 

“I know what you’ve told me,” he said calmly. But there was steel beneath those even words, a note in his voice that told Darcy Clint would have jumped at the chance to kill this witch for what she’d done to Natasha. “And I know you were brave enough to step aside.” 

“That wasn’t bravery,” she snapped. Her knuckles were white. 

“Wasn’t it?” His smile was soft, sad. “Putting the life of two random kids over your own need for retribution? After traveling all that way, facing down your past and smuggling out two helpless children because you couldn’t stand to let what happened to you happen to them- all because a former enemy told you there  _ might  _ be something happening.” 

“Don’t do that,” Natasha said quietly. “Don’t put me on a pedestal, Clint. We promised to-” 

“To be honest with each other. Always. The good and the bad, and to never judge each other for it.” He ran a hand over her hair, so gentle that Darcy felt an overwhelming urge to leave. She shouldn’t be seeing this, the quiet conversation between these two partners who only let their guards down with each other. But that strange god magic held her fast. “It just so happens that you’re trying to be a martyr for a cause that you escaped years ago.” 

“I’m not-” 

“You are.” His voice was firm, brooking no argument. “You want to go join them, even knowing the power the witch has over you.” 

“I don’t know for sure that she... I thought I broke those ties. I would have warned Darcy otherwise.” Natasha rubbed the heel of her hand against her breastbone, pressing hard enough to bruise. “She used to have control over us like we were just her puppets. She’d make us do things that...” 

“I know.” Clint pressed his lips to her temple. His eyes were bleak. Darcy remembered with sudden clarity that Clint had been brainwashed once, too, taken and used by Loki. Forced to kill for him. And Natasha had apparently been used the same way by a monster with no conscience. 

The Russian demigod turned into Clint, curling into him as though she couldn’t hold herself up anymore. The dream faded then, washing away until she woke with a start. 

Darcy felt the cool metal of Bucky’s arm wound tight around her shoulders, Steve radiating heat at his side. She let the sound of their quiet breathing wash over her, calming her heart rate as she thought about what she’d seen and heard. 

Only one god could have shown her something like that. 

Morpheus was not one she’d expected help from, but she wouldn’t turn it away. The God of Dreams was very, very powerful, if he’d shown her real events occurring across the country. The fact that he’d shown her at all meant that there was something of importance there. 

She could guess what he’d wanted her to know- this witch would be able to physically control demigods if she regained her magic. The friendly rivalry between camps, between cabins and siblings and friends, those would all be exploited. The witch would only need a handful of demigods under her control to decimate the Greek and Roman demigods entirely. 

Without that unifying force, they would be overrun. Their tentative alliances would dissolve in the face of chaos within their own camps, leaving the witch all the room she needed to take over. She would waltz in and turn Camp Jupiter and Camp Half-Blood into her own private prisons, free to experiment on and torture these new half-blooded children, to find new magic to steal or corrupt. 

Darcy slipped out of the room, thoughts whirling in her head so fast she felt dizzy. The cold air hit her like a slap, chasing away the lingering, blurred edges of sleep. She sucked in a breath and noticed Adrian’s still form at the front of the boat. 

He glanced at her when she stepped up beside him. His eyes were tired, she noted with concern. Something kept him from resting like the others. “Couldn’t sleep?” 

 “Weird dream.” 

“Me too.” 

A long silence passed. It felt to Darcy oddly anticipatory, like they were on the verge of something important. Whatever he was thinking of, whatever she’d seen in her strange not-a-dream, whatever fight they were going to find all too soon- all of it narrowed down to this moment. This very moment would be a catalyst- good or bad, she didn’t know. 

Not until Adrian said, somber and cautious, “I think we should split up.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Totally forgot my boss was out of town this week, which meant I was doing 2 jobs for 5 days and forgot to update. Wasn't a bad week, just crazy, so I'll be writing and getting wine drunk tonight lol


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for the late update, I forgot to mention I'd be moving last week. Didn't have a chance to update, much less write, because moving is the worst kind of hell and I'm terrible at it. 
> 
> Enough complaining, here's the update (finally). Next chapter will be up asap! :)

“Why do you think that?” Her voice was impressively calm compared to the way her heart was thundering in her chest. 

“I’ve been having these dreams, Darce.” Adrian ran both hands through his thick dark hair. “I think… I think I know where to find adamantine.” 

“How?” She whispered, stunned. “Morpheus?”

“Maybe. But I think it’s mostly Hestia. She’s been leaving me clues and hints and I don’t think I can ignore them any longer. I’m not sure we can _afford_ to ignore them.” He turned, eyes dark and worried. “Something tells me that it’s important, Darcy, very important that I find the adamantine. And soon.” 

“Because… what, it’ll disappear? Or because we’re running out of time?” 

“Because we need something capable of standing against this witch. You can, thanks to the curse, but you can’t fight off the rest of her Grimm and her lieutenant alone. The others are vulnerable to her and her army.” 

She chewed her lip in anxious thought. They’d all agreed that the Grimm she and Shay and Marley had torn through were not the last of the witch’s army. Tens of thousands of souls lost in Asphodel, and only a hundred or two on that ship. Even if it took multiple souls to feed a Grimm, they were looking at another force of hundreds. 

The only question was what the witch _did_ with them. Was there another ship, lurking in the waters, waiting for their orders to strike? Were they hidden somehow in the Underworld, prepared to orchestrate a coup? Or were they with her, a lethal guard of stolen and corrupted souls? 

And the lieutenant. She hadn’t forgotten about him. Remembered his dark, dull eyes from their brief confrontation on the ship. He had similar magic to the witch, but it was weak. Fractured compared to what the witch had, even with the majority of her magic bound on another continent. And yet… Whoever he was, whatever he was capable of, would certainly cause problems when they finally caught up to her. 

“We’re over Alaska,” Adrian pointed out. “Far enough inland that it wouldn’t slow anyone down much if we split. Besides, I have a feeling that if I don’t make a move soon we’ll lose our window of time.” 

She was silent for a long pause. “I don’t like it,” she said finally. Splitting up seemed like tempting fate, giving two targets rather than a single, unified force. But she knew he was right, and he must have heard it in her voice because his hand closed around hers on the rail. 

Adrian’s goal of creating protections for each demigod and human was arguably just as important as her own aim to stop a murderous Russian witch from taking over and killing them all. 

“You aren’t going alone.” It wasn’t a question. 

“No. But you aren’t, either.” 

She sighed. “We have plenty of people to justify separating into two groups. We can talk to the others when they’re up.” She knew Jane was on the upper deck, plotting their course and navigating the ship, but was also watching their conversation from across the ship. 

For now, though… She leaned against Adrian and watched the sun dip towards the horizon, appreciating the quiet moment and knowing that one or both of them could die on this quest to save everyone they loved. 

~*~ 

“I don’t know.” 

Jane scowled. “Adrian, I can’t help you plot a course if you can’t tell me the direction that the adamantine is in.” 

“I can’t tell you because I don’t know.” His voice was sharper than she’d ever heard it, frustration whittling away at his usual even temper. “It’s just a feeling I get when we’re going in the right direction.” 

“Which direction?” 

“I don’t know.” 

“How do you know it’s right, then?” 

 _“That_ I know.” He lifted his hands in a helpless shrug when Jane growled wordlessly at him. “I just do, Jane. I’m sorry I can’t give you anything better than that.” 

“Gods,” Shay muttered, leaning in close to Darcy. “If they go alone they’ll kill each other before they ever find the damned stuff.” 

“I don’t want them going alone, anyway,” Darcy said under her breath. “Neither of them have the training we do. If they’re attacked…” Shay looked troubled at that reminder. 

“I’ll go with them.” They both turned to see Marley, dressed in full armor and wearing a stubborn expression that had meant trouble for anyone around her many times before. Darcy glanced at Shay when she only stared wide-eyed at her girlfriend. 

“No, you can’t leave-” 

Marley stepped forward, touching her fingertips ever so gently to Shay’s cheek. Shay fell silent, eyes dark and wounded. “It’s okay, Shay. They need someone to watch their backs. The main group needs as many fighters as they can get, but you can spare me. Besides, we both know the kind of trouble these two will find otherwise.” 

“Three and five, Shay,” Darcy said softly. Marley nodded at her. “Quests with even numbers never end well. You know the stories.” They all did. Even numbered groups on a quest always ended in one or more deaths. Always. No exceptions. 

She’d been trying not to think about it up until now- their group was at eight. And while Steve and Bucky weren’t demigods, and Mia so very young, she didn’t trust ancient magics such as this curse. Not when it would mean the lives of those she loved. 

“Three to find the adamantine that Adrian keeps sensing,” Marley continued. “Five to track the witch. Good numbers.” 

“I don’t….” Shay took an unsteady breath, fear flickering over her face. “Marley.” 

“I know.” Marley moved in, pressing close to her. She spoke softly, gently, as Shay stared blankly at the wood beneath their feet. Darcy moved away to give them a moment alone. 

“You’re taking the ship,” she told Jane. 

Jane paused in her diatribe against Adrian’s vague answers and blinked at her. “We’re what now?” She frowned. “I thought we agreed you guys were taking it. Speed being of the essence and all?” 

Darcy shared a look with Steve and Bucky, who nodded in understanding. Jane and Adrian, even with Marley’s protection, would be too much of a target on land. They needed the speed and the safety that the ship would provide. The rest of them could make do- they were close enough that a couple days of travel would get them to the witch’s destination.

Besides, their group had more fighters. And while Jane could and _would_ set someone on fire if attacked, and though Adrian was capable of laying down a protective Circle, Darcy knew that they wouldn’t have the same chance as her group would. 

The difference in numbers, but also the combined threat of Darcy and Shay, Steve and Bucky, and the lethal surprise that was Mia. Supersoldiers, Roman soldiers, Mia with her magic and training, and Nyx with her propensity for mayhem and carnage when provoked. 

They’d be fine. 

She told herself that again as they watched Jane steer the _Paralos_ into the air, leaving them standing on the coastline of Alaska. Bucky shouldered a bag, handed one to Steve. Touched Darcy gently on the shoulder when she continued to stare after the ship as it passed between drifting clouds and disappeared. 

“They’ll be okay, doll,” he murmured. He pressed a kiss to her hair and then ducked down to toss Mia over one shoulder. She shrieked in delight and flailed around as Bucky led them away from the coast. 

Shay adjusted her quiver, bow slung over her shoulder, and smiled after them. She nudged Darcy with an elbow when she glanced back at the empty sky. “Stop it. If you’re freaking out, I’m going to freak out.” 

“I just...” 

“Hate not having everyone where you can see them?” Shay’s voice was sympathetic. “Tell me about it. But they’ve got Marley. She’s worth a whole damn legion on her own.” 

“That’s a good point.” And it made her feel better, too. She breathed out a noisy exhale. “Here we go. Off to hunt down a rampaging witch.” She felt the reassuring weight of her Stygian Iron swords against her back, the drakon armor moving easily with her body. Aegis flickered his tongue against the inside of her wrist, a reminder of the power she wore coiled around her. 

 _“Si vis pacem, para bellum.”_ Shay quoted their former commander with a grim smile. “Reyna always was a fan of that one.” 

“If you wish for peace, prepare for war,” Darcy murmured the translation in agreement. “Let’s just hope we can prevent this one.” Behind her, Bucky tossed Mia to Steve, who caught her with a grin that matched Mia's. She huffed. “Let’s also hope someone isn’t nearby to hear this.”

“Mia shrieks like a banshee,” Shay said fondly. “Everyone in the state can probably hear her.” She slung a supply bag over her shoulder and walked across the rocky ground to join the others. 

Nyx propped her front feet up on Bucky’s calf and meowed imperiously. He cautiously leaned down and let the little cat clamber into his bag- she'd bailed from Mia’s after Bucky had swooped them up. 

“Ready, Darce?” Steve called. She sighed, grabbed her own bag. 

“Yeah, let’s move.” 

They walked for hours, Steve leading and Darcy bringing up the rear. Bucky kept close to Mia, carrying her when she drooped from exhaustion, while Shay scouted ahead. They followed the coast but kept far enough away from it that they weren’t obvious targets. 

Though the singed and charred forest was hardly an easier path. Hints of smoke burned Darcy’s throat, blackened trees and a blanket of ash reminding her horribly of their fight against the drakon all those years ago. Shay’s eyes were strained and a shared glance told Darcy that the other girl was struggling with those memories as well. So many dead that day. Such a cost to their success. 

It was hard not to dwell on those memories when the whole world seemed to be nothing but smoke and ash and ruin. The worst, though, was the utter silence around them. Nothing moved in the wreckage. There was no life left here. 

“The witch?” Steve asked, uneasy. “Or wildfires?” 

“Hard to tell,” Darcy said quietly. The scorched earth was an ominous sight, though, and it sent a frisson of worry down her spine.

From her perch on Bucky’s back, Mia scrunched up her face in thought. “Both. The witch took all the life from the woods first, and _then_ a fire sparked. But I think a different person did that?” 

“She likely has her lieutenant with her,” Shay pointed out. She had her bow drawn, and it was only years of training in the Roman army that kept her uneasiness hidden. But Darcy knew her well, could see the too-careful grip on her bow, the hand occasionally reaching up to brush against the arrows in her quiver. “We don’t know what he’s capable of.” 

“He’s not very strong,” Mia said with confidence. “His magic feels like it’s sick.” 

“You can tell that?” Shay asked. Her armor glinted in the weak sunlight as she gestured. “Even through all of this destruction?” Mia smiled, pleased with herself, and nodded. 

Steve kicked at the mounds of ash and charred bark. “Got some embers here. This burned out not too long ago.” 

“We’re closin’ in,” Bucky said, scanning the empty forest. “I think we should take a couple minutes to rest, though.” 

“Best to not be worn out when we catch up,” Shay agreed. “Take an hour?” 

“Yeah,” Darcy said. They’d make up for it by pushing late into the night. Mia was flagging, and she needed their magical prodigy well rested for the fight ahead. 

“Shay and I’ll take first watch,” Steve offered. “Switch after thirty minutes?” 

“Nap time, kiddo,” she told Mia, who tugged her blanket out of her bag and curled into Bucky’s side when he sat. Darcy took a tree nearby, not wanting to risk her swords touching either of them and also unwilling to take them off and be caught off guard. 

The first few minutes of rest were so fitful she almost gave up and started pacing. The smoke, the ruin, the tension from a hunt and a nagging sense that something watched their progress. 

Darcy was proved correct when she was almost tangibly yanked into a dream. Gods were not patient creatures. 

“Well?” Persephone demanded. “What’s taking so long?” 

Darcy looked around, interested to find herself in Persephone’s extravagant garden. She eyed the colossal obsidian palace, concerned Hades would feel her in his realm and come storming out to drop her in a hole somewhere out of spite. Unless she wasn’t physically here? How the hell did Morpheus’s power work, anyway? She’d have to ask her mom. 

“We hit a few delays,” she said, stepping carefully out of reach of the blood-red plant creeping towards her. “The witch isn’t working alone.” 

Persephone’s vine tattoos were glowing against her night-dark skin. “Is that so?” She asked silkily, looming forwards. “And which of our beloved family has decided to betray us now?” 

“Khione, to start.” Darcy leaned back from the lash of darkness that erupted from Persephone. 

“That little bitch,” Persephone hissed. Huh. No love lost there, obviously.

“I think she was working with Eris, too, not that I have any proof of that-” 

“-Third-tier goddess at best-” 

“-but she’s definitely working with the witch. And, by the way-” 

“-power-hungry traitor who’d betray Olympus for a snow cone-” 

“-Eris most likely drew the witch’s attention to our shores.” Persephone’s tirade halted. She turned the full force of her attention to Darcy, who tried not to shrink back from the swell of the goddess’s anger. “Eris admitted to having allies in foreign gods. It’s not a big leap to assume she found a deadly witch with an axe to grind.” 

“Interesting.” Persephone absently touched her fingers to a seeking vine. The buds on the plant exploded into flowers at her touch, showering the ground with velvet-soft petals and a handful of gems. 

A heaviness pressed down upon them, an insistent weight Darcy knew could only belong to a god. Persephone waved a hand. “Oh, all right, you can have her now. I suppose we’re done. For now.” She smiled ominously, blinked those eyes of green fire. “And Darcea, do hurry up. We don’t exactly have the luxury of time.” 

Darcy scowled, but before she could snark back at the Queen of the Underworld, her vision blurred. She stumbled as the world slid away in a dizzying rush that made her stomach lurch horribly. 

The world righted itself again and she was greeted by her mother’s unhappy face. She ignored it for a moment, leaning over to brace her arms on her thighs. “I think I might puke,” she groaned. 

A contrite touch on her shoulder, the feeling of something deep and dark hovering behind her. The nausea vanished, as did the throbbing headache. Morpheus felt like a void, she thought faintly. Boundless, infinite. Vaguely terrifying. 

“Thanks,” she said, standing up. The presence at her back vanished. 

Athena frowned severely at her. “Why did you split up?” Her voice echoed off the marble hall, an endless stretch of sleek white stone and high, arching ceilings.

Darcy blinked at the anger in her voice. “We had to.” 

“Hestia’s son can protect your group when you find the witch. Why did you let him go?” 

“... Because I’m not the boss of him? He had something important to do, Mom, and it wasn’t my place to stop him.” 

“It _was_ your place, as the leader of this quest!” Athena’s grey eyes were hard. “You have a responsibility to your group’s safety, Darcy. What would you risk their lives for? What is so important that you sent away your greatest defense?”

Something flared in Darcy’s chest, a spark of white-hot fury. “Don’t you _dare_ lecture me on the safety of my family. Not after-” She broke off, jaw clenched so tight her teeth ached in protest. 

Not after Quinn, she’d meant to say. Not after she’d lost everything that mattered to her, had watched the most important person in her life die. A couple of scared kids, that’s all they were. She understood that now. Accepted it. Forgave herself for it. 

But she’d never forget. 

“You’re calling my judgement into question now, after everything? Why is that? Because this threat would mean the end of you? All of you?” The edge of rage made her words sharp, left them hanging in the stillness between them. “Don’t pretend you care about my family. You owe me honesty, if nothing else.” 

Athena’s mouth was a tight line. Her posture was stiff, angry. Offended. 

Darcy didn’t care. 

“I’m not a child anymore. You can’t bully me into following your orders, and I won’t be manipulated into anything.” 

“You’re right.” The conciliation didn’t feel much like a victory, but it did relieve some of the tension between them. Athena softened ever so slightly. “I apologize, Darcy. It was not my intention to manipulate or bully you into anything. My concern is valid, though. Adrianos is a very important part of this quest.” 

Not much of a genuine apology, but a miracle in itself that the goddess had unbent that much. They were both stressed, she admitted to herself. Hunting a psychopath under extreme pressure and a looming deadline. 

“Adrian thinks he can find a vein of adamantine,” Darcy said quietly. “Enough to hold his own magic well enough to provide individual protections.” 

Athena’s eyes widened a fraction. “Does anyone else know what he is attempting?” 

Darcy shrugged. “Hestia, probably.”

“Do not tell anyone else, Darcy.” Athena was grave. “And I mean no one. Can you imagine how certain gods will react if they can no longer find or watch their children?” 

Darcy thought of Zeus’s reaction if his own kids could become invisible to him. If he realized that Adrian was even capable of something like this. 

“Hestia should know better,” Athena muttered worriedly. 

“You aren’t going to tell us to stop?” Darcy asked. 

A wry smile. “Would it do any good?” 

She didn’t even pretend to consider. “No.” 

“Then I won’t waste our time.” But Darcy had a feeling that Athena herself wouldn’t give up that measure of control. Her lack of objections meant that she had some idea of how to circumvent Adrian’s protections. 

Something to remember. 

“I will leave you with this, then,” Athena said. She rested a hand on Darcy’s shoulder, ducked her head to meet her gaze. “Be careful, Darcy. Don’t underestimate this witch or her allies- I know she has a few tucked away in the shadows.” 

“I know.” 

“Then watch your back, daughter. You are hunting the witch, but now someone else hunts you.” With that delightful warning, the dream and her mother disappeared. 


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello i’m a little drunk so my bad for any grammatical errors

Darcy opened her eyes to find Mia’s disgruntled face inches away. She swallowed the instinctive yelp and leaned back, bumping into the charred tree she’d been leaning against. The smell of smoke still lingered heavily in the air, a dark reminder of the destruction left by the witch. 

“Dreams,” Mia said, unhappy. Her olive skin was streaked with ash, black hair pulled into a high ponytail to keep it out of her eyes. The dark blue- nearly purple- irises were oddly luminous in the fading sunlight. 

“The weirdest,” Bucky agreed from behind her. He rubbed tiredly at his eyes and stood. 

A small hand patted insistently at Darcy's thigh for attention. “Not the witch?” Mia asked with some anxiety. 

Darcy shook her head. “No, honey, not the witch. Just my mom and Persephone.” 

Mia nodded. “My mom talked to me too.” 

“Anything important?” 

“She says we’re being followed.” Her eyes were wide, searching for any sign of worry from Darcy. She kept her expression carefully neutral. 

Steve and Shay stepped through the ruined trees, focused on Mia. “Followed? By who?” Shay asked. Mia shrugged. 

Darcy let Mia take her hands and pretend to help her to her feet. “I don’t know, Mom didn’t say.” 

“Any guesses?” Steve asked lowly, ducking his head so Mia wouldn’t overhear. 

“A few,” Darcy murmured. “All of them worse than the last.” 

Someone warm and solid stepped up behind her. “I don’t like this forest,” Bucky said over her shoulder. 

Steve tipped his head in agreement. “No noise. All the warning signs have burned away.” Darcy made a face. No sticks, no fallen leaves, no creatures scurrying to safety to warn them. It was dark and lonely in these woods, nothing left behind but echoes and ghosts. 

“Let’s keep moving,” Steve said. 

“You didn’t rest,” Bucky argued. “We’ll be okay for another thirty minutes, punk.” 

“He’s right,” Darcy interjected before Steve could argue. She was very familiar with that stubborn set to his jaw by now, felt the usual exasperated fondness at the sight of it. “Half an hour, okay? Shay needs a break, too. Scouting is twice the work.” 

He subsided, let Mia direct him to the best nap spot as Shay found her own place under Mia’s watchful eye. She let Mia curl up against her for the girl's second nap.

“You had bad dreams, too?” Darcy asked Bucky softly after a lull. She glanced at him briefly, kept her voice casual. Her attempt at nonchalance didn’t work- he smiled crookedly at her and tugged on her braid. 

“Nothin’ to worry about, doll, I promise.” The shadows behind his eyes told a different story. 

“You sure?” She tucked her hands into her pockets, moved away from the others in a wide patrol circle. Bucky followed, which told her that he might be willing to talk about whatever he’d been dreaming about. _She_ was used to gods butting their way into her life and even the occasional dream. It had to be a horribly familiar sensation for him, though, to have someone in his head that he hadn’t invited. 

“To be honest, I’m not sure if it was a dream or vision like you two had,” he told her, eyes focused on the horizon, always moving, searching for a threat in this frozen wasteland. “Felt… Felt more like a memory.” 

The crows were back, she noted absently. 

He took a deep breath. Didn’t exhale until she touched him, a hand sliding into his and squeezing. “I think the witch might have had something to do with the cryo, at some point. Early on. They fucked up the first few times, you see. Didn’t… didn’t do it right. I was still conscious.” 

“Gods,” Darcy breathed. Her vision was blurry, tears swelling up, rolling down her cheeks at the hollowness of his voice. 

“And then,” he huffed a laugh, _“magically,_ it started workin’ right. But when they put you in there, locked you in, there are a few seconds of delay. The interval between that first bite of cold and the void.”

“When you’re still conscious,” she said with quiet horror. “When you know what’s about to happen and can’t do a damn thing about it.” 

“Yeah. That’s what I… I think I remember seeing a woman once. Back to that first time that it worked right. She scared me.” Bucky rubbed at his chest with the palm of his free hand, blue eyes distant and empty. “Assets don’t feel fear. We have no place for emotions, not after they carve them out of you. But that… I  remember that fear. That I saw her watching me go under.” 

“Bucky.” She had to stop, clear her throat when her voice cracked. Gods, it would make sense if the witch had a hand in Hydra’s super soldier creation program. She’d had her fingers in the Red Room- the Winter Soldier Program wasn’t much of a leap from there. 

“I know it sounds bad,” Bucky said hoarsely. “But it’s good that I’m remembering these things. It _is._ I’d rather know everything there is. Some days not knowing what all I did- or what was done to me- some days that’s worse than the rest of it.” 

“I can’t imagine.” 

“Good,” he said fiercely. “I don’t want this for anyone, much less someone I love.” 

“Then how do you think we feel, having someone we love suffering this way?” She chided gently, though her heart had damn near skipped a beat at his declaration. At the way his voice held a defiance, as though daring the world to just _try_ and hurt those he loved. As though he’d burn the world down to keep them safe. 

It was very close to the most dangerous elements to her own heart and soul- for her family she would tear Mount Olympus down brick by brick, god by god. A dark, ferocious part of her that she wasn’t ashamed of- no, never ashamed. But a little afraid of, maybe. Wary of how far she’d go, how much of her own soul she would sacrifice to keep them safe. 

“Helpless,” Bucky said on a sigh. “But I’m gettin’ better, Darce. I am.” 

“You are.” She stood on her tiptoes to press her mouth to his. Lingered when he ducked his head, softened at the touch. 

“You’re very bad at keepin’ watch,” he murmured against her mouth. 

She grinned and nipped his lower lip. “Usually my partner isn’t this pretty.” 

Bucky laughed. “Excuses, excuses. What would your commander say?” 

Darcy raised a brow. “She would have ordered someone else do it- whoever had pissed her off that day- and then dragged me off to her room.” 

“Ah.” He lifted his head, studied the ruins around them and made a face. “I’m afraid I have nowhere respectable to drag you. You sure know how to pick a romantic location, doll.” The wind caused a shower of ash to drift through the air, falling lazily to the ground. 

She muffled a laugh into his chest. “I’ll work on it.” 

“Maybe just leave it up to Steve,” he said, squinting over at a tree as one of its blackened branches crashed to the ground and landed silently in a pile of snow and ash. “He’s pretty good at it.”

“Hey,” she said, indignant. “I should get credit for Hecate’s palace.” 

Bucky appeared skeptical. “No dice. The credit for that goes to the goddess herself.” He checked his watch. “C’mon, let’s go wake the others.” 

Darcy moved to wake Steve first, crouching beside him and laying a gentle hand on his shoulder. He sucked in a breath, eyes snapping open with a suddenness that startled her. 

He turned to her, eyes blank, and said in a deep, solemn tone, “An rud a bhios an dàn, bithidh e do-sheachanta.” Bucky stopped re-packing his bag and turned to stare at Steve. 

Darcy just blinked at him. “... What?” 

Steve shook his head a little, eyes clearing into sudden, sharp awareness. “Sorry. Was that…” 

“Gaelic? I think so.” She ran her fingers through his hair when he appeared troubled. He leaned into her touch. “Let me guess. Weird dream?” 

Steve’s brow furrowed. “I… don’t remember.” 

“Okay, a little concerning,” she said mildly. “What did that mean?” 

He winced. “What is fated will be unavoidable.” 

“Don’t like that,” Shay muttered as she passed them. “Not even a little.” 

“It’s just an Old Irish saying!” Steve called after her. “My Ma used to say it all the time… Probably nothing to worry about...” 

Darcy patted him on the shoulder and let him believe whatever he needed to tell himself. They had bigger things to worry about than cryptic, ominous warnings potentially given by an ancient Irish goddess. 

Or at least that’s what she was going to tell _herself_ until proven horribly wrong (as usual). 

~*~ 

It didn’t take long. 

Only hours later, late enough into the night that dawn seemed both too far and entirely too close, a warbling howl echoed across the flat, empty wilderness. 

Their group froze to listen to the deep cry. Darcy felt her stomach drop. That sound could only have come from the throat a mangled wolf that she'd seen once before, a twisted creature enslaved to the whims of its master and god. 

Shay pivoted to stare at Darcy with wide eyes. Her bow was drawn at the first note of the howl, an arrow of Imperial Gold nocked and ready to fly. But they both knew that it wouldn’t help them here. Not against this enemy. 

The winds picked up, swirling through the night as a figure stalked into sight. His hair was greasy, stringy, to color of soot and topped with a crown of small bones. Tattered robes hung loosely from a thin frame, hiding pale skin and a gaunt body. Teeth sharpened into fangs, eyes glowing bright red like the creatures pacing in the dark around them - it could only mean one god. 

“Lycaon,” Darcy spat. Aegis tightened almost painfully on her wrist. 

The first lycanthrope bared his teeth in a mockery of a smile. “Demigod.” His werewolves circled closer, snarling and drooling with eyes that showed no intelligence, no individual thought. Only pain and a promise of death.

“Darce?” Steve said so quietly she barely heard him. He’d tugged Mia between him and Bucky, both bearing their respective weapons. But steel wouldn’t help them here. Neither, she thought grimly, would Celestial Bronze or Imperial Gold. Lycaon and his wolves were only susceptible to pure silver… and maybe, just maybe, Stygian Iron. 

Hope flickered. 

Shay would know that her weapons wouldn’t kill Lycaon or his wolves, but she was a skilled enough fighter to put arrows in places that would cripple or slow them long enough for Darcy to... her train of thought skittered to a stop as the moonlight showed a silver gleam in Shay’s quiver. 

Shay’s teeth flashed white against her dark skin as her arrows turned from Imperial Gold to pure silver. _Right,_ Darcy thought faintly. Magic quiver, gift from Apollo. Holy gods, they just might get out of this alive. 

Steve slowly drew his shield around until it was braced on his arm as Shay backed into Bucky and quietly instructed him to take a couple of arrows. She handed Mia one as well, scooped Nyx out of Bucky’s bag and plopped her at Mia’s feet. 

Darcy looked past Lycaon, tried to get a count of werewolves closing in on them. But it was too dark, even with the moon’s glowing light. Visibility was shit, and there were too many shadows slipping through the night. 

“You’re a traitor by heart, it seems,” Darcy said with distaste. She stepped sideways, let him track her movements away from the small huddle as Shay spoke quietly and urgently to the others. 

Lycaon’s lip lifted in a sneer. “I am the king of wolves, little demigod. My pack is always hungry. I only seek the chance to keep them alive.” 

“Bullshit.” Darcy slowly, carefully, drew one of the swords strapped to her back. He only watched, unconcerned. “You seek any opportunity for power, no matter how small. Figures you’d be in league with a Russian demigod.” She smiled at him, patronizing, even as her free hand signed careful instructions to Shay from behind her back. She hoped the other girl was looking her way. “No wonder Lupa hates you so much.” The mother of wolves, patron of Roman demigods, considered Lycaon a disgrace to wolves everywhere and made her thoughts well known throughout Camp Jupiter. 

Something ugly crossed his face. “This Russian has such plans for you, Darcea Athana,” he crooned maliciously. “And she’s promised the rest of your little family to my wolves. Starting-” he pointed to Mia- “with _that_ one.” 

Mia, bless her, stuck her tongue out at him even as her tiny black cat grew six feet in height at her side. Nyx yawned to display her mouthful of razor-sharp teeth and flexed her claws deep into the earth in such a threatening manner that some of the wolves skittered away. 

“What the-” Lycaon gaped at the Hell-cat rumbling dangerously with glowing purple stripes faintly visible beneath her thick coat. A bigger monster than he. Something borne of magic and menace, gifted from a goddess with unparalleled power to protect her daughter. 

“Her name is Nyx,” she shared, and almost laughed at Lycaon’s instinctive wince. 

Shay took that split-second of opportunity to fire, so she’d obviously been watching Darcy’s signing. Her first arrow went for Lycaon- only to be caught midair with breathtaking speed- the second, third, fourth for the closest wolves poised to spring. 

Pained yelps echoed through the night as the arrows found their mark. 

But the rest of the pack took it as a sign to charge. Darcy risked a glance back towards Mia, guarded by her vicious Hell-cat who swatted werewolves twenty feet with one dismissive swipe of her giant paw. 

Steve and Bucky kept as close to Mia as they dared, Bucky armed with silver arrows in one hand. The metal arm caught springing wolves, crushed their throats and bones with terrifying ease. Steve’s shield slammed into werewolves with a crunch that could only mean shattered skulls and broken bodies. 

Darcy caught Lycaon’s sword on her own, let the force of his own swing guide the weapon down and away from her. She skipped back a step as he raised it and came for her again. 

Aegis activated with a brush of her sword hand. The shield burst forth, heavy and solid- just in time for her to fling a lunging wolf aside. 

Her sword was moving almost faster than she could think. Darcy surrendered to her instincts, let her training and god-blood guide her in the fight against an immortal opponent with centuries of fighting under his belt. She was faintly aware of Shay firing with desperate, inhuman speed. Silver arrows flashed by Darcy, incapacitating the wolves snapping at her heels with only inches to spare. 

There was a roar from Nyx, followed by a spray of blood that splattered across Darcy and Lycaon both. She gritted her teeth, arms straining with the speed and force of the fight, and prayed to all the gods that Mia was still guarded. 

The Curse of Achilles gave her the speed and strength to keep up with the immortal. But her skill and technique… _that_ relied on training, practice, the kind of discipline that came from years and years of work. It’d been a long time since her time in the Twelfth Legion Fulminata. 

But Reyna was a good teacher, the best demigod warrior in either camp. So Darcy could meet Lycaon’s strikes with bone-jarring force, could push back until he had to double down and focus solely on the fight or risk losing. Already he bore shallow cuts that bled without sign of stopping- he was not, as it turned out, immune to Stygian Iron. 

But his wolves were closing in. Lycaon’s pack was massive, and if he’d brought them all then it was only a matter of time before Darcy and her family fell. 

Lycaon broke away. He staggered back, breathing hard and glowering at her with pure, unfiltered hatred. 

Shay bumped into Darcy’s back. Her bow was nocked, prepared to fire even as the heavily wounded werewolves continued to circle them. A brief pause in the blur of battle, one of those odd moments of suspension that she’d never remember later on. 

“We’re fucked,” Shay rasped. “I count at least thirty more wolves out there.” 

 _“Thirty?_ Fuck.” Darcy adjusted her grip on her sword, let Aegis retract until a slim silver snake coiled around her wrist again. She took a slow, even breath. Made a call she'd been hoping to avoid. “We get Mia out.” 

“No matter what,” Shay agreed instantly. “Give Nyx cover and time to get her to safety.” She hesitated. “I’m assuming your boys won’t leave you.” 

“They wouldn't leave either of us,” she said with resignation. 

“Yeah, didn’t think they were the type,” Shay said, equally unhappy. "Damned heroes." Darcy felt her draw her bow, heard the soft creak of the polished wood. “Just in case I haven’t told you lately-” 

“I love you, too.” Her voice was thick. “You get to Nyx and clear a path, I’ll hold this guy off until-” 

“Wait, wait,” Shay said urgently. She was hard to hear over the low, threatening snarls from the werewolves. “Do you hear that?” 

Everyone in the clearing froze as a howl sang through the night, this one loud and pure. A hunting song, quickly joined by a cacophony of voices that could only mean a pack was nearby. 

Hope made Darcy’s heart pound almost painfully against her ribcage. “Is that-” 

She was interrupted as a volley of silver-white arrows found their marks. Werewolves crumpled all around them as massive white timber wolves barreled out of the tree line. Falcons swooped down from utter darkness, claws reaching for vulnerable red eyes. 

Shay and Darcy shouted, drew the timber wolves’ attentions, and pointed to Mia. The wolves changed course, heading for the little girl standing wide-eyed by her injured Hell-cat. 

Darcy laughed, the sound almost hysterical with her relief. “Do you know what this means?” She asked Lycaon. The first flicker of panic crossed his face and made her grin. “You are so, _so_ fucked.” 

He lunged. Shay caught the strike with her bow before it could hit Darcy, trapping both his sword and arm. She gave a ferocious twist of her bow that disarmed him and, judging by the loud crack, broke his arm. In the same movement, Shay spun into him and slammed the silver arrow in her free hand straight into his neck. 

He barely dodged in time, the arrow sinking into his shoulder instead of the vulnerable skin of his throat. Lycaon bellowed with the pain of it even as Shay used her leverage with the bow to hold him still for Darcy’s strike. 

Darcy’s sword sank an inch into his neck before he vanished from sight. She growled under her breath when he reappeared a safe distance behind her, bleeding freely from the wound- and just in time to catch Steve’s shield to his face. 

Darcy heard the satisfying crunch of his nose breaking from six feet away as he staggered from the blow. Vibranium, as it turned out, _was_ strong enough to damage an immortal. 

Lycaon’s ideas of retaliation disappeared abruptly as a horn sounded. Darcy’s heart lifted as though on wings- and then the Hunters of Artemis leaped into the fray. 


	19. Chapter 19

Lycaon’s ideas of retaliation disappeared abruptly as a horn sounded. Darcy’s heart lifted as though on wings- and then the Hunters of Artemis leaped into the fray. 

The hunters wore their silver-white hunting gear that let them blend into the icy background like revenants of fury and vengeance. Pure silver arrows found their marks with skill equivalent to Shay’s exceptional marksmanship, each girl bearing two hunting knives on their belt that gleamed silver-white in the moon’s glow. 

Thalia Grace, daughter of Zeus, lieutenant of Artemis, and all-around badass, led the charge. She wore a silver circlet around her forehead to mark her rank- she’d risen quickly through the ranks of the hunters, a natural leader and a fearless fighter. 

Her black hair was short and spiky, and her combative temperament was legendary throughout the Greek camp. Darcy herself had butted heads with Thalia more than once in the past, but the moment Thalia burst into view with hard eyes and lightning crackling around her hands, she thought that she’d never seen such a beautiful sight. 

The werewolves couldn’t challenge the force that was Artemis’s Hunters. They fell quickly, unable to withstand the onslaught. The hunters moved with unparalleled speed and grace, bearing a silver aura from the blessing of Artemis that gave them immortality, made them faster, stronger than other demigods. 

Darcy turned her attention to the remaining werewolves that tried to fight. She was aware of Steve’s shield winging through the melee, crushing wolves with the same force that Bucky’s arm was wielding against them. 

Mia cast illusions to slow and confuse their targets, Nyx wounded but snapping up werewolves in her jaws and flinging them into the night when they neared the girl. Shay caught a silver knife tossed to her by a hunter and joined them in their assault. 

Darcy drew her second sword, spun them once in her hands, and then cut through the line of wolves like they were stalks of wheat in a field. She moved like lightning, quick and brutal and leaving a trail of destruction behind her. The Curse sang through her veins like a match dropped in gasoline. 

She felt the moment the tide turned, the fight shifting in their favor as the werewolves buckled, fell, and did not rise again. Saw Lycaon take stock of the massacre, realize that this was not a fight he could win. 

He disappeared, his wolves panicking at the sudden loss of their leader and scrambling back to the ruined forest. The hunters went to chase them, only to be drawn back by a sharp whistle from Thalia. 

The night was stained with blood and death. Darcy tasted copper at the back of her throat with every inhale of the stinging cold air as she fought to catch her breath. 

But they were still standing, all of them. Death hadn’t touched them, not tonight. Not yet. 

Thalia strolled over to Darcy, paused halfway and leaned down to wipe the blood off of her knives on the coat of a dead werewolf. She glanced up at Darcy as she did so, mouth curling into a faint smile. “Heya, Darce. Heard you took a dip in the Styx.” 

Darcy sheathed her swords with a grimace. “Yeah. Would not recommend.” 

Thalia laughed, her eyes a dazzling cobalt against an unblemished, eternally youthful face. “Well, even with your curse, you’re lucky we were close.” 

“We were.” Darcy was abruptly serious. “Thalia, thank you.” 

A bored shrug. “Sure, whatever. Lady Artemis sent us this way, said there was something going on. Should’ve expected Lycaon to be involved. Dude’s a pain in the ass.” 

“Men,” another hunter grumbled in agreement as she passed by with a dead werewolf tossed over her shoulder. Darcy noticed that the other hunters were eyeing Steve and Bucky mistrustfully even as they cleared the area of the fallen wolves. 

“We’re setting up camp here for the night,” Thalia decided. She smiled in greeting as Shay joined them, accepted a hug from the daughter of Apollo. “Your group is welcome to join us.” 

“All of us?” Darcy asked skeptically. She was well aware of the animosity Hunters of Artemis held towards men. They were sworn to be maidens and hunters for the rest of their eternal lives, and therefore tended to greatly dislike the company of men. 

Thalia rolled her eyes. “They can handle a night or two.” 

“Two?” Shay asked, interested. She shared a quick look with Darcy. 

“We’ll do whatever Lady Artemis orders,” Thalia said, unconcerned. “If she wants us to guard you guys until the end of your quest, then that’s what we’ll do. So far, my orders are just to keep you guys alive.” She paused to frown at Shay. “You’re wounded.” 

Darcy whipped around to examine her. Sure enough, Shay bore deep claw marks in her shoulder that bled heavily through her winter coat. “Shay,” she said with alarm. 

“Huh.” Shay squinted down at her wound. “Didn’t notice that, but… ouch.” 

A nearby hunter pulled a small box out of her bag, the size of a pack of chewing gum, and tossed it a few feet away. It landed in the snow with a soft thump and then rapidly expanded into a large silver tent. Other hunters followed suit, activating their own tents until they had a large, secure campsite. 

The timber wolves milled around the site with bloodstained muzzles, eyes bright and ears perked. Falcons soared out of the sky and landed gracefully on the outstretched arms of the hunters, rewarded with strips of meat. 

Thalia gestured to the hunter that had first activated her tent. “Isidora can stitch that for you. C’mon, you should get out of the cold. Bring the others.” 

Darcy waved Steve and Bucky over, who led Mia and Nyx with them. “You’re okay?” She asked anxiously, scanning them with desperate eyes. Steve leaned down and brushed a kiss over her mouth in reassurance. 

“We’re good. No wounds. Not even Trouble, here.” He ruffled Mia’s hair with an affectionate grin. Mia beamed up at him. 

Her grin faded and she touched Nyx’s blood-matted coat, eyes welling. “She got hurt, Darce.”

“It’s okay, baby. The hunters will help her.” Darcy caught the eye of a hunter with dark, slanted eyes and long black hair who had wolves and falcons huddled close by. She nodded in acknowledgement, eyes already focused on Nyx with both fascination and clinical assessment. 

Leaving the Hell-cat and Mia in capable hands, Darcy led Steve and Bucky into the tent that Thalia and Shay had disappeared into moments ago. 

Shay sat in a backwards-facing chair, waving with her hands as she explained something to Thalia. “Hunters of Artemis,” Darcy explained in a low aside to Steve and Bucky. “Try not to draw attention to yourselves- they don’t like men very much.” Steve made a noise of acknowledgement and they moved to a corner of the tent with a lingering touch to her skin, as though to reassure themselves that she was in one piece. 

A hunter with brown skin and sharp green eyes focused intently on stitching Shay’s wounds. The silver thread in her hands glowed in a way that told Darcy the wounds would heal with magical assistance-  which was a relief, both for Shay and the timeframe of their mission. 

Shay paid no attention to her wound or the pain, too focused on explaining the past few weeks to Thalia, who listened with rapt interest. 

“Stay still,” the healer muttered impatiently when Shay kept moving. “You damned army types are always so uncooperative. Roman idiots...” She grumbled under her breath. 

Shay ignored her, leaning around the healer to speak with Darcy. “Darce, I’m pretty sure Dad sent them over. I had a dream during our helpful little nap yesterday. Didn’t know what the hell he was talking about until they showed up.” 

Darcy wiped distractedly at the blood drying on her face- a mix of Nyx’s blood and that of the werewolves. It was still in the tacky stage of drying. She wrinkled her nose in disgust even as the healer bristled at Shay's words.  “We follow Lady Artemis’s orders,” she said stiffly. _"Not_ Apollo's." 

“Relax, Isidora,” Thalia said on a sigh. “Shay just meant that Apollo gave Lady Artemis the information she needed to send us after Shay and Darcy.” 

“After us specifically?” Darcy asked. 

“Yes.” Everyone froze as the Goddess of the Hunt entered the tent. Somehow smaller than Darcy had expected and also far too large for the confines of the tent, Artemis had a regality that changed the very air they breathed. 

Thalia and the healer, Isidora, both bowed to their leader in welcome. Darcy and Shay tipped their heads respectfully.  _ This _ was a goddess to whom Darcy would willingly show respect and even appreciation.

After all, she had nearly joined the ranks of Artemis’s immortal hunters so many years ago. Sometime between Quinn’s death and her pivotal moment as a Centurion of the Roman army’s Fourth Cohort, she’d met Thalia and had come so very close to accepting Artemis’s offer. Shay and Marley had also been recruited- they were the best fighters of the army at that time, other than the formidable Reyna Avila Ramírez-Arellano. 

Artemis was all at once the loveliest thing in the tent and the most fearsome. She wore her auburn hair at shoulder length, her body tall and well-muscled, eyes a cold, striking silver-grey that seemed to pierce through anyone she looked at. 

In all the various years that Darcy had personally seen the goddess, Artemis had never physically appeared over twenty years old. But her youthful appearance was a direct contradiction to the grave wisdom in her eyes, the regal way she carried herself. 

“Lady Artemis.” Darcy ducked her head at the goddess’ entrance, feeling suddenly bashful. 

“Darcea,” Artemis greeted. “My brother suspected you would need support in your quest.” 

Shay’s head lifted, eyes wide and hopeful. “So my Dad did ask you to come?” 

Artemis nodded, resting her hands on the massive white bow propped up in front of her. “He asked me to consider it a favor to him, sending my hunters after Lycaon and his pack. Mount Olympus is aware of the traitor’s tendency to assist entities seeking power.” 

“Lucky Apollo loves you so much,” Thalia gently teased Shay. “Or you’d have been toast.” 

“We’d have been a werewolf midnight snack,” Shay said in agreement. “Thank you, Lady Artemis.” 

Artemis tipped her head. “I only wish I had been aware of the threat sooner. Maybe then my hunters would have helped you root out the source faster.” 

“We were delayed,” Thalia said apologetically, “by what turned out to be a wild goose chase.” 

“Hecate and Athena intervened before we ventured too far,” Artemis shared. “And then my brother rudely interrupted our meeting to demand I send my hunters after his most favored daughter. She was tracking a foreign demigod seeking anarchy, he said. How could I refuse? Apollo so rarely admits the names of his champions.” 

Shay ducked her head. 

“Don’t let it go to your head, kid.” Apollo swanned into the tent. The hunters scowled at his entrance, his confident strut as he joined the group. Darcy was caught off guard, as always, at his radiant aura, enhanced by a Greek robe of gold vibrant against his dark skin and a laurel wreath resting on his sun-gold hair. “I’m just impressed you’ve lived this long.” 

Shay rolled her eyes. “Day isn’t over yet.” 

“Not funny,” Darcy said sternly. She noticed Steve and Bucky trying to remain unnoticed in the shadowed corner of the tent. She held her breath when Apollo squinted over at them for a prolonged moment before finally refocusing on his daughter and sister. 

“Lycaon’s tucked tail and run off to lick his wounds for now,” he said cheerfully. “So way to go, guys. Very impressed. Also, kid, the next time you think you’re about to die, do me a favor and  _ don’t _ send resigned prayers my way. I’m not  _ positive _ gods can perish of a heart attack, but I certainly tested the theory tonight.” 

“I would not let your favored daughter die on her quest,” Artemis told Apollo with some offense, “not when you’ve personally asked for my help, brother.” 

“Which is why I asked you and only you, sister.” Apollo reached down, touched Shay’s face with gentle hands. He studied her closely with abrupt seriousness and then, apparently satisfied with her health, released her back to the impatient healer’s care. “This is too important for mistakes. Otherwise I wouldn’t have bothered  _ you _ with it.” 

“Much appreciated,” Artemis said dryly. Isidora eyed him suspiciously still. Thalia regarded him much like a rambunctious child left without supervision, to Darcy’s amusement. 

“What can I say? If Olympus needs something done right, we call you.” He reached over, tugged playfully at Artemis’s braid, didn’t seem to notice the dangerous narrow-eyed stares from her hunters. “Zeus still doesn’t grasp the severity of the situation, but Athena and Hecate- and Persephone, Olympus help us all- understand what’s happening.” 

Darcy watched them with quiet fascination. Apollo radiated a comforting warmth, a blatant contradiction to Artemis’s cold moon-lit glow. The Twin Archers, whose loyalty to each other miraculously seemed to extend beyond their obedience to the King of Olympus. 

“Yes, Persephone has made her concerns clear with me.” Artemis grimaced. “She was very… thorough. And vocal.” Thalia hid a grin. 

“That one will keep you on your toes,” Apollo chirped. “Gods all bless Hades. Poor guy needs all the help he can get with that one, she’s terrifying.” 

“Dad,” Shay said reprovingly. 

“You haven’t faced Persephone yet, kiddo, don’t take that tone with me,” he scolded. “She’s very scary. And loud.  _ So _ very loud.” He peered at Darcy. “Oh, hey, it’s you again. How’s that handsome archer friend of yours doing?” Shay groaned and banged her head repeatedly on the chair back until Isidora stopped her, struggling to keep a straight face herself.

“Apollo,” Artemis sighed. “Focus.” 

Apollo mouthed  _ ‘Later’ _ at Darcy with a wink before turning his attention back to his sister. “Yes?” 

“Lycaon _will_ return to try and stop their quest. I’m sure he has a lot banking on this demigod’s success. We drove him back tonight, but he will lick his wounds and then come for you again.” Her voice was solemn, a direct contrast to Apollo’s excited wriggling at her side that she seemed to be pointedly ignoring. 

His glee would not be contained. “Are you suggesting what I think you’re suggesting?” 

Artemis sighed again. Seemed to have to force out the “...Yes.” Apollo crowed with delight, not noticing or not caring that his sister was rolling her eyes. 

“Lady Artemis?” Thalia asked, eyeing Apollo warily. 

“It’s all right, Thalia. You and the hunters will continue under my previous orders- guard the members of this quest and help them in their mission to stop the witch. My brother and I will ensure Lycaon does not return, or the snow goddess who has been waiting for another chance to attack.” 

“Psh, Khione is hardly a threat.” 

“She is strong in this part of the world,” Artemis reminded him. She left the tent, the rest of them filing out after her like lost ducklings. “Sunlight is weaker this far north, Apollo.” 

He made offended noises for a moment before declaring, “Just for that, I’m making us take the chariot.” Thalia shuddered, though Artemis seemed unimpressed with the threat.  

The Goddess of the Hunt turned to her lieutenant. “I will rejoin you as soon as I am able. But your role in this is crucial. They cannot fail, Thalia.” 

“I understand.” 

Artemis looked to Darcy, ignoring the two men at her back. “Good luck, Darcy. The future of Mount Olympus depends on your success.” She turned on her heel and followed Apollo to the massive Sun Chariot glowing with painful brightness. 

“Thanks,” Darcy said despondently. Thalia helpfully patted her on the shoulder as Apollo’s voice drifted back to them. 

“Hey, Artemis, what did the moon write in its Tinder bio?” 

“No,” came the flat reply. 

He continued as if she hadn’t spoken. “Just a moon, looking for  _ sunbody _ to love. Get it? Ow!” His yelp echoed loudly in the early morning light and made all the hunters look up from their tasks. 

Apollo yanked the silver arrow out of his bicep and threw it back to his sister. “C’mon, that one was funny!” He complained. 

“It was not,” Artemis said. “And stay off Tinder, for the last time. It’s undignified for a god to be-”

“Spreading the love?” He suggested. Artemis made a disgusted noise as she leaped lightly onto the chariot beside him.  

Shay shook her head. “Definitely siblings.” 

Apollo twisted around and shouted, “Oh, kid, I fixed your little scratch! Next time don’t let your draw arm get clawed to pieces.” Everyone turned to peer at Shay’s bandaged arm as she unwound the wrapping to reveal unmarred skin. 

The chariot launched into the sky with explosive force while they were distracted. “I hate that thing,” Thalia muttered. “If he ever offers to let you ride in it, say no.” 

Darcy looked around, found Mia sitting beside a still-giant Nyx. She had a timber wolf sprawled across her lap, and both of them looked deliriously happy about it. 

“Darcy, Shay, can I have a wolf?” She called. Nyx was curled up, her wounds patched, and cracked an eye to examine the flailing wolf beside her with predatory interest.

“Oh, great, the murderous Hell-cat isn’t enough of a pet for her,” Shay said with a sigh. “New York has rules about wolves in the city, kid. That’s a no go.” 

“But I can make him look like a puppy with the Mist and then no one will know!” 

“No using your powers for evil,” Darcy scolded. She heard Bucky muffle a laugh behind her. “Besides, Nyx might eat it.” The wolf peered dubiously at Nyx as she casually flexed her claws. 

Mia’s next argument was cut off by a wide yawn. Thalia pointed to the tent in the center of the small grid. “That’s for you guys. We’ll keep watch. You guys look like you need rest.” 

“I feel like I’ve been hit by Dad’s chariot,” Shay said tiredly. “Thanks, Thalia.” 

“Go,” Thalia said, nudging her towards the tent. “Sleep. I don’t want to see any of you for at least six hours.” 

They obediently stepped into their assigned tent. Bucky made a noise of surprise when the inside of the tent turned out to be twice the size that the exterior suggested. Thin roll-up mattresses were piled in one corner along with thick winter sleeping bags and fur blankets. 

Someone had left a couple basins of water in the tent for them. Darcy made a beeline for it and poured cups for everyone while Shay glanced in the second basin, found it warm and a stack of washcloths nearby. 

“We’re covered in blood,” she said, bending down to wipe Mia’s face. “I say we get the worst of it tonight, sleep, and find somewhere to bathe later.” 

Steve stripped off his coat and made a tired noise of agreement. Bucky eyed the sleeping bags and blankets with some longing as he cleaned up. 

“Where’s Nyx?” Darcy asked Mia as she stripped her swords and armor off. 

“She wanted to sleep outside,” Mia said while Shay tried to clean blood from her hair. “She’s laying across the front of the tent.” 

“Okay.” She leaned down and kissed Mia’s forehead. “Good job today, kiddo. You were very brave in that fight.” 

“Thank you,” Mia said solemnly. Shay swallowed a laugh at her utterly serious tone and wide eyes. 

“Alright, bed. Go pick a mattress and a spot.” They let Mia select her sleeping bag and blankets first, got her settled in the center of the tent. And then they found their own places on either side, keeping her in the middle of them where she’d be the safest. 

Darcy tossed her own bag down, grabbed a blanket, and was only vaguely aware of Bucky at her side before she dropped into a deep, dreamless sleep of pure exhaustion. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> is it super obvious how much I love Artemis & Apollo? (... and literally every other female goddess, let's be real)


	20. Chapter 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! this is late for a couple reasons  
> 1) I had to move (again, blegh) and it was a nightmare  
> 2) work has been total insanity  
> 3) I have been too depressed to write much BUT  
> 4) I am more excited for the new part of the Legacy verse than I've ever been to write ANYTHING and I can barely contain myself, so that's helped a lot. 
> 
> I'm going to finish this fic first of course and then start writing it so don't worry about this! And if you haven't read my other series maybe give it a try?? It's basically magic and werewolves and found family and I'm super attached to it... plus you don't need to know anything about Teen Wolf to read it because I've thoroughly wrecked canon lol

Even all these years later, Darcy still couldn’t shake certain habits from her time with the Twelfth Legion at Camp Jupiter. 

The compulsive planning that bled into everything she did, preparing countless contingencies for every possible difficulty born from years of war games and  _ actual  _ war fighting immortal monsters with far more experience and advantage. Though part of that was certainly due to her parentage.

She’d nixed the obsessive cleaning and bed-making purely out of spite, but still could never manage to leave clutter lying around. Upon entering a new space she always found and marked the exits first, no matter how safe the space, and she could not only drop off to sleep instantly but can and had operated on erratic sleep schedules for days on end. 

Her body woke with the sun no matter how hard she tried to stay asleep. Early morning workouts began from frustration after leaving camp- she  _ wanted _ to sleep in, but rarely managed it. So she sucked it up and continued her drills and training, accepted and even learned to appreciate the quiet, peaceful mornings. 

Darcy appreciated the utter stillness of the morning after Lycaon’s attack, seated atop a nearby incline to watch the sun rise. 

She needed to think. 

The others were still sleeping, though Shay had cracked an eye to watch Darcy slip out of the tent with her gear. Hunters of Artemis patrolled the camp, nodding a greeting as she passed them by. 

Now, wrapped in a thick winter coat borrowed from the hunters and breathing air that was such a sharp, bitter cold that each lungful stung, Darcy stared blankly out at the lazy flurries of snow drifting their way down from a cloud-swollen sky and rubbed her thumb absently over Aegis’s head.

So many moving pieces. The last few weeks had blown by so quickly that Darcy felt as though she’d only been scrambling to keep up with each new revelation, each new god bearing down on them, each new brush with death. 

The scales teetering back and forth, their fates wobbling on a knife’s edge poised to tip either way at the smallest provocation. The whole world resting on her shoulders. 

In her first moment of real solitude, Darcy gave herself three minutes to let the looming, overwhelming stress and fear swamp her. The stakes were so high, and this witch was unlike anything she’d ever faced before. 

She had her family fighting on the front lines of this threatening new war, everyone she loved involved in some way. And she knew that no matter how small their involvement, the collateral damage from this kind of fight could be devastating. 

Not to mention if the witch actually succeeded. Then the demigod world would fall to ruin, and the gods after them. The gods could not cling to this new century without their children as an anchor, their footholds of power too tenuous in a faithless nation. 

Darcy, along with every other Greek or Roman demigod child, spent years training and working under intense conditions, always prepared to give whatever it took, up to and including their own lives. Days, months, years, all bled together in a combat-fueled haze. Their whole lives following the same script, the end always the same. She wondered if this would be her end, if her time had finally come. 

She let those feelings out of their cage, untangled the storm inside of her and identified its elements before it could devour her whole. 

Anguish. Despair. Uncertainty. 

And then the sun crept over the horizon in a blinding burst of light and color that made her heart skip a beat. The sky was painted in streaks of luminous hues, a fusion of colors that thawed the painful block of ice in her chest. 

Her three minutes were up, she decided with a wry smile, because she could hardly maintain a desolate outlook when the world was this bright, when a simple sunrise could remind her how ground-shaking hope could be.

They fought because they believed in their cause, had enough faith in their parents to keep gods alive and tied to their new shores. They fought because people would die otherwise, because it was the right thing to do. 

They’d gone up against impossible odds before and won. 

As though summoned by her thoughts, Steve and Bucky settled on either side of her without a word. They watched the sun climb higher into the sky in a moment of pure, unfiltered peace until Steve planted a gloved hand in the snow behind her back and leaned into her. 

Lips brushed her temple. “Everything okay?” 

She smiled. “You know, I think it will be.” 

~*~ 

“Just keep them out of the way,” Thalia said later that morning with a pointed glance at Steve and Bucky. 

Darcy smiled politely. “Not happening.” She understood and respected the Hunters of Artemis’s aversion and dislike towards men, but she would not change her own behavior towards the men she loved, let alone bend to the expectations of strangers. 

They’d earned their place at her side, on this quest. She wouldn’t turn on them for the world.

Thalia scowled. “Darcy, you know-” 

“I’m perfectly aware,” she interrupted. “But this is  _ my _ quest, and they’re here to fight just like everyone else. Your hunters can respect that or tail us from a distance.” 

“And leave you unprotected?” 

She shrugged. “Send scouts ahead. I’m serious, Thalia. I won’t tolerate their contempt for either man. You’re their lieutenant. So lead.” 

Thalia’s jaw flexed. “Fine. But they’re not going to like it.”  

“They don’t have to like it,” Darcy countered. “But they’re damn well going to put aside unfounded derision so we can focus on stopping the witch.” Because that behavior quickly led to those lives mattering less to the hunters- she’d seen it before in the army when the hunters joined them during skirmishes with monsters. 

And while the hunters took great pride in their abilities- and rightly so- Darcy would not risk Steve and Bucky’s lives. So she’d initiated this conversation ahead of time to clear the air and to make her feelings known. 

“That went better than I expected,” Shay muttered as Thalia stalked off. 

“Fuck, me too.” But Artemis  _ had _ given explicit orders to keep their group safe. That had some influence on Thalia’s concession. It was a relief to have the conversation over with, anyway. 

She glanced around, found Steve and Bucky trying to coax Nyx into releasing his shield. They did not appear to be successful, at least until Mia tromped over with a heavy sigh and tugged it out of her grip. 

“You can’t stay big,” she scolded her cat. “We gotta be sneaky, Nyx.” 

Nyx gave a plaintive meow, feigning innocence now that Mia was there, and shrank back to her tiny, unassuming form. She gave a flick of her tail and yelled at Bucky until he picked her up with an exasperated shake of his head while Steve laughed at him. “You’re a brat, you know that?” His gentle lecture was ignored as the little cat rubbed her head against his beard with purple eyes narrowed in a blissful squint. 

Mia tugged at Darcy’s hand until she looked away from her map. “Can I hold Aegis?” 

“Sure, baby.” She let the small golden snake wind his way off her wrist and drop into Mia’s outstretched palms. “Stay close, okay? We might need him.” 

“Uh huh.” Mia whispered to Aegis, scampering out of Darcy’s earshot. Deliberately, by the looks of it. Darcy frowned after her, wondering what she was up to. Trouble usually followed on the heels of Mia acting squirrely, and they had enough to handle without her influence. Two of the timber wolves flanked Mia to guard her as the hunters moved out, so she set it aside for now.

She fell into step with Shay, who had her bow and quiver strapped to her back within easy reach. They glowed softly in the morning light, the sun’s rays gracing Shay’s features so that her dark skin was warm and bright, her braids glossy, her dark eyes shining. The daughter of the sun god, touched by his power. 

Shay kept her eyes on the rising sun as they followed a small unit of the hunters, who’d broken into groups of three to effectively and quietly scout the path ahead. “You okay?” Darcy asked. Shay made a noise of agreement but said nothing. 

Darcy hazarded a guess. “Worried about Marley?”

“Marley can take care of herself,” Shay said firmly, as though reminding herself. 

“Marley can take care of herself, us, the hunters, and the quest,” Darcy said with a snort. “She could probably do this whole thing on her own and make us look like fools while she’s at it.” A smile curled at the edges of Shay’s mouth, but those worry lines still creased her forehead. “But that doesn’t mean you can’t be worried for her.” 

“I love her.” The mild annoyance in Shay’s voice had Darcy swallowing a laugh. “And because I love her, I know that she isn’t afraid of anything, even when she should be.” 

Darcy shook her head. “If she were here, you two would start this whole damn argument all over again.” She’d witnessed this fight a hundred times at Camp Jupiter, and the unresolved sexual tension had nearly suffocated her and everyone else in earshot every time. Even Reyna had given up on intervening. 

_ “I _ didn’t go gallivanting into the sunset with a fire-starting space cadet and a walking demigod target,” Shay muttered. 

“No, you went gallivanting into a throwdown with a psychotic werewolf god and a foreign demigod witch.” 

Shay tripped her. Darcy managed to stay on her feet, but only because she’d known what was coming. “You don’t start with me.” The warning reminded Darcy of the few but terrible times in which both Shay and Marley had turned their angry, righteous lectures on  _ her  _ for doing something stupid (and heroic, not that they’d cared about that). 

Thalia appeared seemingly out of nowhere before she could answer. “Here,” she said, thrusting a flask and small silver bag at them. “Breakfast.” 

Darcy peered warily into the bag, relieved to find ambrosia inside. This would keep the demigods strong as they traveled, and would mean that Steve and Bucky could have more of their human food rations. 

Shay sniffed at the flask. “What is this?” 

“Moon water.” Thalia sighed when they stared blankly at her. “It’s a perk of being one of Artemis’s Hunters,” she explained. “Similar to nectar, but better. It’ll give you energy and power, enough to fight well without food or rest. I might even share some with those soldiers of yours.” 

Shay sipped the water, brows shooting up at the first swallow. “I can’t believe you’d be nice enough to share this with men.” 

The daughter of Zeus shrugged. “They aren’t so bad. Respectful, polite. Good with the kid, too.” They all looked over to see Mia swinging from between Steve and Bucky’s grip, grinning like a fool as they obediently tossed her into a snowdrift and then fished her out to do it all over again.

The other hunters appeared reluctantly amused. Darcy studied their faces, noted the diverse group of women that all possessed eternal youth as Artemis’s handmaidens. They would remain as such unless they fell in battle or broke their vows of rejecting males. The hunters were Artemis’s maidservants, her companions, and her sisters in arms. 

A few nymphs had joined the ranks, but the majority of the hunters were demigods. The hunters were most of the reason that Darcy respected Artemis possibly more than any other Greek deity- the goddess knew demigods the best of all her family, had spent the most time with them and extended her companionship to them. She didn’t see them as mere opportunities for power or glory, but respected them as individuals and valued their lives. 

She gave girls and women a safe haven from men and the tragedy of their fates had they remained within the grasp of men seeking power- often the male gods who would let their children burn out if it benefited them. After all, Artemis had taken in Thalia Grace, the daughter of Zeus himself, when she’d sought escape from a dark prophecy and a father that wanted the glory of a heroic daughter- even at the cost of her life. 

And, centuries ago, Artemis had accepted the daughter of a Titan without prejudice. Zoe Nightshade, who had been Artemis’s lieutenant before Thalia. She’d fallen in battle many years ago, but the wound was still fresh for many of the girls who’d fought at her side for a hundred years.

“You know what this reminds me of?” Thalia asked, squinting across the icy landscape. 

“Ugh, don’t bring that up,” Shay grumbled. “That was the worst fight I’ve ever been in.” 

“Now that’s a lie,” Thalia laughed. 

“I had snow in places snow should never be. It wouldn’t even  _ melt.” _

“It was just a couple yetis, you big baby.” 

“Uh, I seem to recall you bitching more than anyone. Weren’t you tossed off a cliff?” 

“It was a  _ small  _ cliff, and I landed on my feet thank you very much!” 

Darcy laughed under her breath and slipped away as their bickering continued. She remembered that fight well and had to agree with Shay. Yetis were  _ not  _ friendly, and tracking them was no easy task- much less the fight once the cohort actually caught up to them. Her cohort had been cold and wet and miserable for days on end, and snow thrown by a yeti did  _ not  _ melt.

She caught up with Steve and Bucky, boots crunching through the snow and thin layer of ice. Steve absently reached out to steady her when she skidded on a slick patch, his eyes focused on the horizon. She followed his gaze and felt warning creep down her spine at the line of crows perched on a charred branch. 

They blinked solemnly at the group, uncharacteristically still and silent. “Any more weird dreams?” Darcy asked casually. She narrowed her eyes at the birds in a silent command to  _ go away. _ The crows did not acknowledge her demands, too interested in being a creepy and ominous warning.

Steve refocused on her, blinking a little. “What?” She repeated the question. “Oh. No, not that I remember. Why do you ask?” 

“No reason,” Darcy murmured, gaze drifting to their ominous watchers. “No reason at all.” 

“You think we’ve got someone else’s attention?” Bucky asked quietly. Surprise at his intuition made her slip. His mouth curled at one corner as he and Steve caught her before she fell. “Guess that’s a yes, huh?” 

“How did you-” 

He tapped a gloved finger against her forehead with a fond quirk of his mouth. “You’ve got that look again, like you’re playing interdimensional 3-D chess with a bunch of uncooperative deities as the pawns.” 

“That’s very specific, Buck,” Steve said, swallowing a laugh. 

“Been sittin’ on that one for a while,” he admitted, winking playfully at her. “Seems to be the most accurate description.” 

She couldn’t help her smile at his gentle teasing. “Nothing quite that complicated.” The crows rustled their wings impatiently as their group passed underneath, the three of them eyeing the birds warily. “Just wondering if there are more players involved than what it seems.” 

“Greek? Roman? Russian?” Bucky glanced at Steve. Frowned. “Celtic?” 

Steve sucked in a breath when Darcy was pointedly quiet. “You don’t think...” 

She shrugged a shoulder, felt the reassuring weight of her dual swords against her back. The Stygian Iron burned cold against her spine, colder than the winter winds and the ice creeping along with every passing mile. “I kind of wonder if she hasn’t always been with you to some extent.” 

He blanched. “Doll, that’s not exactly a reassuring thought.” 

Darcy patted him sympathetically on his arm. “Welcome to my life, Rogers.” 

“Faith is all it takes, right?” Bucky asked. He stepped a little closer to them, reaching out to brush his fingers along the broad line of Steve’s shoulders. “You’ve always had that, punk.” 

“Not always,” Steve murmured. There was a heavy beat of silence. Darcy let it settle, linger between them. A memory of the years lost, of a time when their hope and love had been buried beneath the ice. Lost to the past. 

But no longer, and never again. She’d make sure of it. “You found each other,” she reminded them. “And now you have time to live.” 

“Found your faith again, too,” Bucky added. “I won’t take credit for that one.” 

Steve snorted. “You probably should.” He glanced down at Darcy. “Anything I should do to prevent any interference?” 

“If she’s decided to interfere- and is  _ able  _ to interfere, which might give me nightmares forever- then there’s not a damn thing we can do but hope it doesn’t get us all killed.” She made a face. “Just don’t say her name. Or think it too loudly. You know what, let’s all pretend this discussion never happened and maybe she’ll leave us alone.” 

They shared an amused glance. “Didn’t take you for an optimist.” 

“Sometimes,” she said sagely, “sticking your head in the sand is the only way to stay sane. Denial has its benefits.” The crows took flight, soaring overhead without a sound, and she privately wondered if said denial would soon become impossible. 


	21. Chapter 21

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I still have no wifi in my house, which is turning me into a raging rage monster with rage issues... along with the inability to write/update and the suffocating heat in the hell that is Georgia (climate change, y'all. we all gonna die). 
> 
> Anyway here's an update on our second group of heroes :)

_Roughly the same time that Darcy and the others were fighting Lycaon and his pack…_

The arrow flew straight and true through the sheets of rain lashing across the sky. It slammed into the monster swooping for Jane and sent it tumbling towards the ground with a scream that echoed over the storm threatening to capsize the _Paralos._

“Thanks!” Jane shouted, hands clutching the wheel in a white-knuckled grip. Her hair was plastered to her head, water dripping into her eyes and fucking with her visibility. She swiped impatiently at her face. 

Marley didn’t answer, too busy firing her bow at the flock of Strix swarming the ship’s deck. The former centurion of the Roman army moved like a shadow through the storm-dark sky, long dark hair in a tight braid against her scalp. Little strands of hair whipped around her face, the wind pulling them free of the braid. She paid them no attention, hyper-focused on the monsters darting in and out of sight. 

Adrian scrambled for the stairs, dodging an overhead attack with a graceful twist. Jane saw a glint of metal as he moved, heard the Strix shriek in pain and fly out of reach. 

He joined her on the deck, knife dripping with sickly green blood. “I _hate_ these things,” he panted, bruised and bleeding from a hard fall to the deck when they were first attacked. “What the hell are they even supposed to be?” 

“Strix,” Jane shouted over the boom of rolling thunder. “Don’t let them scratch you- their talons will cause paralysis!” A wild, fierce wind sent the ship sideways for a heart-stopping moment. She grunted with the effort of holding the wheel steady, felt Adrian latch onto the wheel to help. A quick glance showed Marley still fighting, having tied a rope around her waist and to the mast at some point. 

“Did you say _paralysis?”_ Adrian shouted back. They rode out the current until she could right the ship again.

Jane nodded distractedly. “Then they’ll disembowel you, drink your blood, and eat your flesh!” Adrian’s face twisted in disgust. “Here, hold the wheel!” She yelled. 

With her hands free, she could call upon the fire that simmered impatiently in her veins. The first lick of flame extinguished in the violent downpour, but Jane knew her power could withstand it if pushed. She reached for it again, called it to the surface in a long, controlled pull as she made her way to Marley’s side. 

She sent a blast of fire at the trio of Strix coming upon Marley’s blind spot, grinned when they squawked in terror and bailed. Steam was rising off of her skin now, and she hoped her feet weren’t burning imprints into the ship’s deck. This wood was Ancient-Greek-era vintage.

The Strix looked like owls, at first glance, only so large that their wingspans had to reach six or seven feet across. Their plumage was a deep, glittering obsidian that hid them well in the storm, their red claws and bright gold beaks a striking contrast. Round yellow eyes watched them with a promise of violence

The Strix dove in a coordinated attack from above. Jane and Marley squinted up into the rain, watching the birds descend. Without warning, Adrian yanked the wheel and sent them stumbling across the deck. The Strix had to abandon their attack as a bolt of lightning blasted through the flock- right, Jane noted grimly, where the ship had previously been. 

“You’re fucking kidding me!” Marley shouted. “What the Styx is he trying to do, blast us out of the sky?” She eyed the storm worriedly for signs of another lightning bolt. 

“He definitely doesn’t want to help!” Jane yelled. She swore with a ferocity that made Marley grin when a Strix darted in from behind, only to go tumbling back into the sky with singed feathers seconds later. “Styx, where’s Thor when you need him?” 

He was managing tumultuous and potentially realm-destroying Asgardian politics, she knew, but she had a feeling that Zeus wouldn’t pass up this chance to take them out. He still hadn’t forgiven any of them for their part in hiding Adrian, and if the three of them just _happened_ to fly into a terrible storm... well, then he might turn his full attention towards this very convenient opportunity for retribution. 

Adrian shouted something indiscernible over the teeth-shattering rumble of thunder; Jane twisted towards the deck in alarm just as a thunderbolt slammed into the back of the ship with a deafening boom. 

The _Paralos_ bucked in mid-air, wood and sails groaning under the effort of staying aloft. They were thrown roughly to the deck. Jane’s head bounced off the wood, hard enough that the world went dark for a few seconds. 

She regained consciousness, urged awake and aware by the horrible sensation of sliding towards emptiness. The nose of the ship, she realized faintly, was pointing towards the sky. Jane was sliding on her stomach, seconds away from falling hundreds of miles to the earth, and she scrambled desperately for a handhold. 

Her last frantic reach left her holding empty air. Jane felt herself tugged back, gravity an ever-insistent bitch as the ship tipped dangerously backwards. 

A muscled arm snatched her out of the whirlpool of dark, empty space beckoning from below. Marley hauled her back against the firm lines of her body, muscles straining to keep them tethered to the rope tied around her waist. 

Jane glanced back, heart pounding from the brush with death. Marley’s teeth were gritted with the strain of her efforts as she wrapped her free arm around the rope, which was fraying from their combined weight. A fearful glance at the ruined deck showed her Adrian’s dark head of hair as he clung to the wheel. She breathed a sigh of relief at the sight of him.

Marley’s bow was looped through the same arm wound around Jane’s waist, and Jane took a second to marvel at the woman’s efficiency- she'd caught the weapons _and_ the wayward demigod, go Marley- before focusing on the capsizing ship. She reached back and freed the long dagger hanging from Marley’s belt. 

With a twist of her shoulders, she slammed the blade into the deck beside them and wriggled out of Marley’s hold. She hung from the dagger, leaving Marley with two hands free again. “The sail!” Jane screamed over the wind. 

Marley’s eyes followed her pointing finger to the main sail which, now that they were upright, had caught a gust of wind that was keeping them trapped in their position. The wind was too deliberately focused on that sail to be natural, which Jane noticed and filed away for later consideration, like when they weren’t three seconds from dying horribly. 

With careful, deliberate motions, Marley pulled a dark arrow from her quiver. It was long, barbed, and looked positively lethal. She brought the arrowhead to her lips, closed her eyes and whispered something against the metal. 

To Jane’s astonishment, the arrow began to pulse with a violent red glow. Marley’s slanted eyes opened, the dark brown of her iris filtered with that same blood-red color. She braced one knee against the deck and her other foot lower, giving herself the room to maneuver her bow into position. 

The wind was so fierce now that Jane could hardly draw breath. She dug her fingernails into the deck, the other hand wrapped around the handle of the dagger, and tried to keep herself plastered to the solid wood. The wind yanked at her clothes, her hair, tried to pry her from the ship as the rain beat down steadily upon them. 

Marley’s bow creaked as she nocked the arrow and drew it back as far as it would bend. She was braced almost sideways against the upright deck, lining up her shot through the rough winds and Strix swooping closer and closer. 

“Hold on!” She shouted, and let the arrow fly. 

It was a blood-red beacon through the raging winds and flash of lightning. The world slowed, seemed to hold its breath with the rest of them as the arrow rocketed through the storm. 

It cut through the wind as though anchored to some invisible line, a brutally efficient missile that blasted straight through a Strix’s throat and finally slammed into the thick metal hooks holding the sail in place. 

The hooks shattered upon impact. Jane gasped as the sail’s tension dissolved, the thick white material flapping wildly above their heads without its anchor. 

Marley’s shoulders sagged in relief as the ship tilted back until it was level, the two smaller sails snapping out to keep them aloft. The ship chugged onwards and away from the storm, Jane’s Frankensteined engine both ugly and incredibly resilient.

“What...” Jane trailed off. 

“Gift from Mars,” Marley said, reaching over to yank her dagger out of the deck. She slashed it across the rope tied to her waist and stood as it pooled on the ground. “I was saving it for like... the apocalypse or something, but I felt as though this probably counted. Besides, I didn't want to risk missing that shot. I'm not as good as Shay is with a bow.” 

Jane laughed a little hysterically as Marley hauled her to her feet and guided her to the deck. She glanced around, noting that they were through the worst of the storm. The rain slackened, the wind howled somewhere behind them, the thunder now a distant rumble. 

Adrian clutched his arm, blood seeping between his fingers. He had as many scrapes as Jane and Marley, a split lip, and a truly spectacular bruise blooming across his face. 

Above them, the Strix were gathering, preparing another assault. Before Jane could warn the others, Adrian’s jaw flexed with his temper and he nudged them aside. “Stay there.” She felt a Circle snap closed around them. 

Adrian stood alone on the main deck, rocking easily with the motions of the ship. He looked up, as though daring the mythical monsters to do their worst. 

The Strix dove.  

Marley jerked forward on instinct, reaching for an arrow even as Jane’s fire flickered in her palms. But Adrian didn’t move, stood utterly still as the monsters swarmed. 

And then, once they were mere feet away, he threw his arms out with a shout, sending a ripple of his power into the oncoming swarm. Jane felt the concussive blast rock the ship, but her eyes were on the Strix. Adrian’s power met them with a crack and then a sizzling sound- and then they all turned to ash. 

The Circle around them wavered as Adrian’s knees buckled. Jane and Marley darted towards him as he staggered and fell. “Shit, why didn’t you do that earlier?” Marley asked, only half joking. 

“Wasn’t sure I could,” Adrian muttered. He let them help him into a seated position and squinted up at them. “Also I hit my head really hard and was seeing double for a while.” 

“Oh good, more head trauma,” Jane grumbled. “That’s the last thing this group needs.” 

He huffed a laugh and slumped against them. “That took a lot out of me,” he admitted. “I don’t think I can stand.” 

“I’ll grab some ambrosia.” Marley darted to the stairs, skidding a little on the wet deck. She returned with enough for all three of them. Jane sighed in relief as the god-food healed over her bruised and bloody body, soothing aches that were rapidly becoming violent pangs of hurt. 

“So, did Zeus just try to officially kill us?” Jane wondered. “He’d piss off three Olympians just for revenge?” 

“No,” Adrian said slowly. “I think he’d blow up our ship to protect the adamantine right below us.” He looked up and smiled with fierce satisfaction. “We found it.” 

~*~ 

“For the record,” Jane said as they stared into the dark, empty tunnel mouth, “I do not like this. Not one bit.” 

“Seconded,” Marley said, peering into the black. She held a torch that Jane had set on fire for each of them. 

Adrian grimaced. “I’m not saying I _want_ to wander around in the dark, creepy tunnel, but…” 

“We have to,” Jane finished for him. 

Nobody moved. 

“... But do we _really_ have to?” 

Adrian squared his shoulders as though bracing himself. “Yes, we do.” 

There was another pause, and then finally, “If I die in this creepy tunnel, I’m haunting you for the rest of your days,” Marley warned, drawing her sword. 

“Mar, it would be an honor.” 

Marley cracked a reluctant smile and led the way. 

The tunnel was long, winding, and so horribly suffocating that Jane hunched in on herself defensively. They stepped carefully through a small cavern, pausing to stare at the cracked white statues lined against one wall. 

“That’s exciting,” Adrian remarked blandly. “And by exciting I mean terrifyingly ominous.” 

Jane frowned, stepping closer to study the lines of the stone. “They were sculpted.” Sculpting fell into Hephaestus’s wide array of expertise, of course, but it was Jane’s mother who’d taught her to identify and create art from smooth, unyielding stone. 

Loretta Foster was ninety pounds soaking wet, had a head full of wild blonde hair, a breathy voice, and bright green eyes that were wide and friendly in a face made up of delicate lines. She was perpetually perky and bubbly, had an endless array of fluffy pink robes and sweaters and skirts, and looked more like a Vegas showgirl than a world renowned sculptor. 

Jane loved her fiercely. 

She’d fought off the first monster to come after Jane with a chisel, accepted her daughter’s newfound fire powers without batting a glued-on eyelash, maintained a friendly relationship with Hephaestus and even initiated Jane’s first visit with him, entirely unaffected by his gruff manner (“That man’s just a big ol’ teddy bear, hon.”) and the fact that she was bucking hundreds of years of tradition by doing so. 

She had encouraged Jane’s fascination with the stars, suffered through years of helping Jane with her high-level math homework and would say without a trace of arrogance, _“I_ am brilliant. But _you,_ baby girl, you are on a whole ‘nother level. Also, I hate physics.” 

Jane knew all of her stars by heart at the age of eight, after long, cosy nights perched on her mother’s lap so they could stare up at the sky. But before she’d learned the stars she loved so much, she’d mastered how to carve life into a block of stone, how to coax the captivating hidden shapes and figures out of a blank slate. 

The memories of her mother brought a wave of safety and comfort, soothing the rapid pulse of her heart. Adrian relaxed, likely picking up on her mood change even as Jane sighed in relief. “Definitely carved, and not very well. I’ve seen Medusa’s statues before, and they’re not this.” Medusa’s statues were far, far more terrifying. She captured horror like no one else.

“Thank fuck,” Marley muttered. “She’d tear us apart in here.” She adjusted her grip on the gold sword in her hand, the torchlight flickering and casting her face in and out of shadow. 

“Let’s keep moving,” Jane said, her voice echoing in the tunnel. “We shouldn’t waste any more time, not with the others closing in on the witch.” 

“I hope to the gods they’ve had better luck than us.” Marley moved cautiously through the unexplored darkness, Adrian at her back and Jane bringing up the rear. “But I doubt it. Seems there are a lot of gods with their eye on this quest.” 

Adrian swore when Marley came to an abrupt halt, nearly crashing into her back. He swung the torch wide, away from her hair, and muttered under his breath. 

“What is it?” Jane asked softly. 

“The tunnel splits three ways,” Marley called over her shoulder. “Adrian?” 

He inched around her, brow furrowed, clothes torn and bloodstained from their previous fight. They both waited with concealed impatience as he stared down each path for a prolonged moment. “Right is bad,” he murmured finally. Then he shuddered slightly. “Middle is worse.” 

“Left it is,” Jane said with forced cheer. 

“Left isn’t great, either,” Adrian admitted, running a hand through his wavy hair. “But the adamantine is that way, I can feel it.” 

Jane eyed the deep warm reddish-brown glow to his eyes and didn’t argue. No one knew the true extent of Hestia’s children’s abilities, but demigods were trained from day one to trust their instincts. Her own instincts weren’t screaming either way- except that everything about this was terrible- so she let Adrian decide for them. 

Marley paused, though, handing Adrian her torch and drawing the shield strapped to her back so that it was braced securely on one arm. Jane studied the fierce picture she made, the confident set of her shoulders and steady grip on her weapons, and said, “Marley, have I told you how glad I am that you came with us?” Adrian nodded emphatically. 

The daughter of Mars grinned at them and then plunged into the abyss. Adrian followed within arm’s reach, Jane right on his heels. She didn’t want to risk something separating them, and since she was fireproof the torches in his hands were hardly a threat to her. 

The odds of some terrible monster guarding the adamantine were higher than she’d like, and Styx knew what else was lurking in the dark down here. Jane had a brief memory of her run-in with a Sphinx during her camp quest years ago and prayed to Hephaestus that she wouldn’t find another one. That Sphinx hadn’t appreciated her (entirely correct!) answers, much less the snarky ones. She’d only escaped by collapsing the roof with some of her siblings’ more stable explosives. (Whatever, it counted.)

Collapsing the tunnels was most certainly not an option. She had no desire to die in some dark hole in the middle of the Alaskan wilderness. 

But as they stumbled into a wide, open cavern with glittering white walls, she wondered if it was an unavoidable fate- because gathered in the room, armed and waiting for them, was a legion of Scythian Dracanae. 

Lethal, vicious fighters, the Scythian Dracanae were humanoid female monsters with twin serpent trunks instead of legs. They moved in an oddly hypnotizing combination of walking and slithering, and the bulk of their serpent bodies disguised the speed with which they could strike. 

A quiet hiss sounded from the tunnel.

Jane glanced back with a sinking heart to find more Scythian Dracanae slithering into sight.

They were trapped. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Many thanks to Lost_Glass_Slipper, who found Children of Olympus being copied/pasted onto wattpad by some random asshole. It's been taken down, but if you ever see any of my stuff there please let me know!!


	22. Chapter 22

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heads up, this gets a little dark

 

For the record, Darcy was getting really tired of the creepy dream-visions, helpful as they may be. 

As if she’d heard her thoughts, Athena materialized in the odd in-between dream space, a washed out white space that shifted to a familiar marble palace with Athena’s appearance. 

“Liminal spaces,” she reminded Darcy. “We can pass information through dreams anchored by Morpheus without wasting valuable time.” She shifted on her feet, bearing golden armor and her shield. The legendary spear was strapped to her back, a sword belted at her waist. A golden helm atop Athena’s head highlighted the sharp, fierce lines of her face. 

“It’s still disturbing,” Darcy muttered. She never  _ forgot _ that the gods were all-seeing and all-hearing, but having the reminder shoved in her face every time she slept was starting to stress her out. 

Athena ignored her complaints. She looked tired, Darcy realized once she took a closer look at her mother’s slate grey eyes. “We will show you what you need to know. Pay close attention, Darcy. It’s all coming together now.” There was a brief touch against her forehead that felt like the brush of a kiss before Athena was gone. 

And then Darcy was standing alone in a still, silent field of hazy smoke and dark skies that felt terribly ominous. Habit, years of fighting unseen enemies in terrible visibility, had her scanning the field in search of movement. Every muscle in her body went tight as the smoke began to move, curl, and solidify until they were shaped into solemn figures. 

People. 

Demigods, she realized a moment later when the hazy shape of the witch formed. She wasn’t here- this was the past. Some horrible event from the history of the Russian camps shown to her now through smoke and shadow. 

She watched the demigods scream without sound, witnessed the horrors that they suffered at the hands of a monster before they crumpled into empty-eyed husks that did not rise again. She shivered when green-white flashes of energy cut through the recollection, Eris’s voice diverting the witch’s attention from her victims. 

_ “So it’s true. You are not a god.” Eris’s voice was amused, disdainful.  _

_ The witch straightened. “My name is Svetlana Arkadyevna Rovenskaya, and I am greater than any god that walks  _ your _ shores.”  _

_ A purr of interest. “Is that so?”  _

_ “It is.”  _

_ “In that case… I have a proposition for you, Svetlana Arkadyevna Rovenskaya. One that will make us rulers of  _ all _ gods, if you prove to be as strong as you claim.”  _

_ The witch- Svetlana Rovenskaya- smiled with red-stained lips and eyes that were an abyss of horror. “Help free me, stranger, and I will bring ruination on whoever you wish.”   _

The smoke swept them away, settling again seconds later in a new scene.

Darcy’s heart leapt into her throat when two small figures appeared at Svetlana’s side. The twins moved like tiny shades, tucked oh-so-carefully into the shadows, seeking any comfort they could find away from the witch’s grasp. 

Until Pietro was snatched up by one taloned hand. Wanda trembled, eyes glued to her brother while the witch gestured pointedly to a row of demigods standing at attention with blank, stoic faces. 

Wanda shook her head desperately, curling in on herself like a wounded animal. A flash of light, and Pietro’s knees buckled in pain. Again, and again, until a sobbing Wanda finally reached out one bone-thin hand and let her soft red magic curl around the demigods. 

Darcy watched in horror as the demigods’ eyes began to glow red. The witch observed with barely concealed jealousy when they mindlessly obeyed Wanda’s shaky command to kneel. To stand. To turn on each other. To kill.

Pietro was tossed carelessly aside so the witch could watch the massacre with malicious glee. Wanda crawled through blood-soaked snow to her brother, the pair clinging to each other for comfort as blank-eyed demigods ripped each other to pieces above them. 

Darcy pressed the back of her hand to her mouth and fought the gorge that rose in her throat. So Svetlana wanted Wanda’s powers for mind control and Pietro’s use as leverage. Her dogged pursuit of the twins made sense now. 

She glanced over at a quiet movement and froze. A nearby crow ruffled its feathers, perched on a pile of rocks and quietly watching her with dark eyes. She swallowed hard as realization struck. 

Darcy met the eyes of the crow as a heavy hand settled on her shoulder from behind. She distantly recognized Morpheus’s chasmic presence at her back and, with sudden clarity, heard the memory of her mother and Hecate’s words from a year ago.

_ “Gods have some power over the in-between, Darcy.”  _

_ “A few of us can suspend these liminal spaces, should we need to.”  _

The crow croaked a laugh and vanished into the smoke, even as an oblivious Morpheus pulled her away. 

This time there was no smoke. Darcy watched in what seemed to be real time as the witch barked orders to her lieutenant, the greasy man scrabbling to obey. Svetlana Rovenskaya studied the contents of the dark box in her hands, her rust-colored cloak a beacon against the wash of white around her. 

Darcy looked around, following the lieutenant’s progress as he clambered over ice and rock with more speed than his frail body suggested. 

Aegis tightened around her wrist in warning. Darcy jerked her head around, heart pounding when she found nothing but barren landscape where the witch had been. 

A dark shape moved behind her, and Darcy knew that somehow Svetlana had severed Morpheus’s connection to her. Because it wasn’t the God of Dreams at her back now- it was the witch. 

“Spying is so very rude, little полубог,” Svetlana crooned. Her breath stirred Darcy’s hair, the overwhelming scent of blood filling Darcy’s senses. She tasted copper with her next breath, held still even as the witch traced sharp nails gently over the base of her neck. Darcy swallowed hard and carefully didn’t react. 

“I know what you want the twins for.” 

“Oh? Do tell.” 

“Wanda has power that you want.” 

A considering hum. “Yes, my little sister shows promise, despite her weak spirit. But that won’t matter when I siphon her magic away, take it for myself.” Svetlana slowly circled her, nails dragging softly around Darcy’s neck. 

Darcy studied the sharp lines of the witch’s face, the odd angles and deep hollows that had changed since their last meeting. Something to do with her magic? She was a far cry from the monster Darcy had seen in that very first vision. 

“You won’t find her.” 

Those talons came to rest against Darcy’s chest, fingers pressing painfully against her sternum- right where pale white scars were seared into her skin. They burned at the contact. 

“Oh, but I’ve marked my little sister as well. I will find her eventually. She cannot hide forever, not from me.” 

Darcy thought of Natasha and Clint’s hard-edged resolve. “I wouldn’t be so sure.” 

“You speak of Natalia Alianovna Romanova? The pride and joy of the Red Room, one of my greatest achievements?” 

Disgust warred with rage. “She is a  _ person.” _

“No, полубог. She is a  _ weapon,”  _ Svetlana said with vindication. “One that I personally forged. Natalia will come to heel when called. She belongs to me- she will have little choice once my power returns.”  

“Natasha won’t let you take them back, no matter what power you think you have over her.” 

“Not just her, полубог. The child will follow orders. She knows the consequences of disobedience.” Svetlana made an eager sound. “They have had a little taste of freedom, yes. But once my magic is returned I will hunt them down. Not even you can hide them once I am at full strength.” 

“You can’t find them now. They’re protected.” Hestia’s children had built a rock-solid foundation of protection for the foster house- witch or no, she wouldn’t be able to break that alone. 

“Yes, by the offspring of your goddess of the hearth. How very quaint.” Svetlana smiled. “I suppose I shall have to hunt them down first. Maybe instead of killing them I’ll make them mine as well.” 

“Over my dead body,” Darcy snarled. 

The witch laughed. “That’s only a matter of time, now, isn’t it? You are still hunting me, after all. Straight into the jaws of death herself.” Amusement colored her voice. 

“You don’t see me as a threat, I guess. That’s okay. Eris wasn’t either. Last I heard she was locked in the depths of Tartarus.” 

A dismissive snort. “Your little hellhole cannot contain me.” 

“Oh, I’m not going to let you live long enough for imprisonment. You’ve earned your death, Svetlana Rovenskaya.” 

There was a pause, long enough that Darcy felt a fierce jolt of satisfaction for surprising the witch. 

“And how did you come about my name, little полубог? When I have killed all in living memory with that knowledge?” Shadows darkened, lengthened all around them. There was a dark pulse of energy radiating from the witch now, something sharp and angry. 

Darcy thought of the stories she’d heard from Steve, thought of the sheer distance to the shores of those gods. “From someone much more powerful than you. Someone who’s invested in seeing you fail.” 

“I suppose I should move faster, then.” The witch leaned in, hand cupping Darcy’s neck with inhuman strength. “You might want to wake up now, Darcea. I have a surprise for you.” 

~*~ 

Darcy woke to shouting. 

When she staggered out of the empty silvery tent, coughing heavily, swords strapped to her back and Aegis hissing on her wrist, she found the camp in chaos. Several tents had gone up in flames, thick clouds of black smoke rising in a pewter sky. The overwhelming, acrid scent burned her throat with every breath. 

A passing hunter shoved a piece of cloth into her hands before drawing a dagger and disappearing into a nearby burning tent. Darcy yanked the silver cloth over her head, drawing it up to cover the bottom half of her face. 

Whatever it was made of made breathing easier, blocking the worst of the smoke. Darcy made to follow the hunter into the tent, but she’d already carried an injured hunter out and vanished again. 

She’d gone to sleep hours ago with Steve and Bucky in the tent with her. Darcy stamped down on the panic that tried to rise when she couldn’t find them. 

She activated the Aegis and jogged around another burning tent- only to nearly crash right into Steve.    


“Darcy!” He swept her up for a brief, vise-tight hug. “We couldn’t wake you again. I left to find Mia just before the attack started.” 

“Attack? What’s going  _ on, _ Steve?” She heard hunters shouting over the mayhem, the snarls of the wolves somewhere under the cover of the smoke. 

“We were hit hard by something that slipped past the patrols.” He braced his own shield on one arm, twisting to frown in the direction she’d come from, then down at her. “Where’s Bucky?” 

Fear made her throat tighten. “I don’t know, he wasn’t there when I woke up.” 

“I left him with you.” Steve straightened to his full height, the mantle of Captain settling over him in an almost tangible shift. “He wouldn’t have left you there undefended.” 

A dark shape moved in the corner of her vision. Darcy had her sword drawn within the span of a single heartbeat, pivoting to block the strike before it caught Steve in the back. She disarmed the Grimm with a flick of her wrist and slammed the Aegis into it. It staggered back at the blow, utterly silent, and she moved quickly while it was off balance, shoving her sword into its cloak-covered face. The Grimm died with an eerie silence, shriveling into a crumpled black cloak. 

Darcy kicked at it and turned back to Steve. “If The Grimm are here, that means the witch can’t be too far behind.” 

The skin around his eyes was tight and strained. “Let’s go.” 

They ran through the burning camp, working in tandem to kill any Grimm that got in their way. Darcy skidded to a stop at a sharp bark, turning to see a giant white wolf barreling towards them. It wound around their legs until it was sure it had their attention and then darted off again. 

“Follow the wolf!” Darcy shouted, sprinting after it with Steve on her heels. 

She heard a vicious crackle of energy over the swoosh of flames that could only mean Thalia. The wolf seemed to be leading them towards the deafening, rapidfire blasts of lightning. 

They cleared the last of the burning tents just in time to see a thunderbolt slam into the icy ground, throwing the swarm of Grimm back, away from the demigod bleeding heavily in the center of the mob. 

Thalia was breathing hard, pale-faced and streaked with ash. She was bleeding from a deep wound in her side, a silver bow shattered in the snow at her feet. Thalia watched, bristling with rage, as the Grimm slowly climbed to their feet. 

Darcy and Steve leapt into the fray, taking down a third of the Grimm before they realized what was happening. The Stygian Iron sword burned cold in her hand, alight with all the killing. Darcy let the Aegis’s steady glow keep her balanced as the killing urge tried to overwhelm her, lest it disrupt her focus. Together they killed the others, giving Thalia the breathing space to aim her strikes of lightning where they would count the most. The timber wolf helped, leaping onto the Grimm and dragging them to the ground for Darcy to finish off. 

An enraged bellow nearly made Darcy drop her sword. She knew Nyx’s call by now, which meant…  _ Mia. _ She spun to meet Steve’s wide eyes, was distantly aware of the overwhelming scent of ozone lingering in the air from Thalia’s power. 

She glanced at Thalia, who waved her on even as two hunters darted over to their lieutenant. “Go!” Thalia shouted. The timber wolf leaned against her legs, letting her brace against him as the hunters assessed her wound. 

A high-pitched, furious scream rang over the sounds of fighting. Darcy sprinted for all she was worth towards the sound. She found the witch’s lieutenant trying to escape in the midst of the insanity, Mia dragged along with him. 

She fought like a wildcat, kicking and screaming and aiming for all the pressure points she could reach. She was streaked with purple-tinted blood, bleeding from a handful of wounds along her exposed skin. 

The lieutenant clocked Darcy and Steve coming up fast. He yanked Mia back against him, using her as a shield, one forearm pressed tight against her windpipe. “Stay back, or I kill her!” 

They halted, trembling with the repressed need to follow. Behind him, over the rise, waited a legion of Grimm that moved silently over the ice. Mia scratched at the forearm against her neck, leaving deep gouges in his skin. But he didn’t release her, just maneuvered until they were near a small rise of ice-covered rocks. 

“If he gets to the Grimm…” 

Steve’s voice matched her terrified murmur. “I know.” 

Mia’s struggles were becoming fainter from the lack of oxygen. Her eyes fluttered, breath growing shallow and weak while they watched with helpless fury.

And then, soaring between Darcy and Steve with a flash of gold in the weak sunlight, an arrow slammed into the crook of his elbow. He yelled in pain, dropping the arm around Mia’s neck to clutch at the wound. 

Mia fell to the snow, thrown behind him as the Grimm closed in. But above the lieutenant a dark shadow moved, leaping off of the rocky incline and slamming into his back. 

Bucky smashed the lieutenant’s injured arm with a metal fist, sending him staggering back with a scream of pain. They traded blows as Darcy and Steve scrambled forward, came within arm’s reach of Mia- 

And a dark blast of magic sent them flying back down the incline. Darcy climbed to her knees, ears ringing, and heard something that made her blood run cold as the Grimm parted around Svetlana. 

“Soldat!” Bucky’s head jerked around, eyes wide and confused. “Подчиняться.” 

“No,” Steve breathed as Bucky’s eyes glazed over. 

“What…” Darcy couldn’t breathe. “Steve, I thought the trigger words were erased.” 

“Nat said they were-” He cut off, turning to her with horrified eyes. “Unless she has the same trigger that she doesn’t know about.” 

Shay’s enraged shout came from behind them. Darcy didn’t have to turn around to know that the Grimm were still wrecking the camp. She was caught in place, trapped in between helping the others and finding a way to save Bucky and Mia.  

Svetlana turned her malevolent smile on them, victory brightening her dark eyes. “I told you, полубог. They belong to me.” She snapped her fingers and Bucky leaned down to pick up an unconscious Mia with a mindless obedience that made Darcy sick. “I’ll come for the rest soon, Darcea.” 

She waved her hand and sent them flying. 

They landed roughly at the base of a burning tent. Darcy pried her eyes opened in time to see a dark cloak descending upon her. Skeletal hands reached for her through the smoke. She kicked out, missed. 

The end of a longbow smashed into the Grimm’s neck. It flew into the wall of flames and went up in smoke. Shay collapsed to her knees at Darcy’s side, one bloodied hand cupping her shoulder in a way that meant it was badly injured. 

“Please don’t be dead,” she coughed. 

“Not dead,” Darcy managed. She rolled to her side, then her front, bracing on her elbows until the world stopped spinning and she could sit up on her knees. 

Steve groaned. She crawled to him, hands cupping his bloody head, fingers fluttering over the laceration at his temple. “Bucky,” he asked, trailing off at her tear-streaked face. 

“She took him,” Darcy choked out. “She took them both, they’re gone.” 

She looked up when Shay swore with hard-edged ferocity that meant bad, bad things were happening, followed her gaze to the Grimm pouring over the incline towards them. 

“Shay-” 

“Can’t draw my bow again,” Shay said roughly. “Best I can do is hold a sword. And that’s not going to be enough. Not this time.” 

Darcy found her sword in the snow a few feet away as she and Steve helped each other to their feet. The Grimm were almost upon them, and she had a sick feeling they wouldn’t survive the approaching onslaught. 

But she’d face her death on her feet and with a sword in her hand and, if by some miracle they survived, she would hunt down Svetlana and rip the witch to pieces. 

Darcy activated the Aegis once more and met the swarm of monsters, the battered remains of her family at her side. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1) The cliffhangers are not intentional it just keeps happening I'm so sorry lol  
> 2) next update as soon as it's finished, hopefully tomorrow or Monday!


	23. Chapter 23

The Grimm swarmed with a silent intensity that made her hands want to shake. She felt nauseous, off-kilter and hollowed out by her grief and fear. 

Steve and Shay stepped up on either side of her, braced for impact. A few hunters, burned and bleeding, joined them with grim expressions. Darcy adjusted her grip on the Stygian Iron sword that was pulsing a soft purple in warning of the approaching monsters. 

Isidore, the hunter’s healer, drew a massive silver bow. She had a thick white bandage around one bicep that was stained red. “I gotta say, Lewis, this doesn’t look too good for us.” She tracked the Grimm as they approached, calm and composed in the face of the monster army. 

“I know. I’m sorry.” Darcy risked a glance over her shoulder to study the other hunters. A distant shout drew her attention, a distraction she dismissed when nothing came of it. But she’d sworn… 

She refocused. “Thalia?”

“Holding down the west entrance with the others. They’ll start working their way through the camp if we aren’t all dead in a couple minutes.” Isidore sighed. “I’m supposed to tell you to go on without us.” 

Darcy bristled. “The fuck I will.”

Isidore grinned. “Yeah, she told me you’d say that.” Her smile faded. “Well, in that case, it’s been an honor.” 

But before Darcy could respond in kind, a wave of fire stopped the Grimm in their tracks. Their own line ducked instinctively away from the pillars of flame streaming from behind them. Darcy twisted, eyes wide, and found a furious Jane standing alone between two burning silver tents. 

A horn rang over the shouting and whoosh of flames, one that made everyone pause.

Isidore groaned good naturedly and said, “Styx, they’ll never let us live this down.” And then horses charged out of the smoke, sweeping through the line of Grimm and shattering their calm as their riders cut the monsters down with brutal efficiency. 

Darcy recognized one of the riders and laughed a little breathlessly in sheer disbelief. Jane ran to her side, eyes wide. “Darcy!” She swept her up in a tight hug, both of them smelling of smoke. 

“Jane, how…” 

“We ran into some trouble,” Jane explained breathlessly. “Hylla saved our asses.” 

Hylla Twice-Kill, Queen of the Amazon Warriors, daughter of the Roman war goddess Bellona, and Reyna’s older sister. She could be mistaken for Reyna’s twin, with long black hair and dark eyes. Athletic and lean, Hylla wore a sleek black leather jumpsuit with Queen Hippolyta’s belt and her sister’s ring. She fought like a berserker, tearing through the Grimm with obvious enjoyment. 

The Queen of the Amazons had earned her name when the first Amazon queen was brought back to life to support Gaea’s attempt to destroy the gods years ago. Hylla had defeated the formidable queen in single combat two nights in a row before bringing her Amazons to Camp Half-Blood to join her sister in their fight. 

Darcy watched as she swung her giant black stallion around, leaning down into the melee to help Thalia swing up behind her. “This brings us ahead by two, Grace!” She shouted. 

Thalia rolled her eyes. “For the last time, San Antonio doesn’t count!” Hylla just laughed and steered them back into the slaughter. 

Darcy scanned the fighters and felt her heart drop. “Jane, where-” 

“Adrian’s on the ship and Marley is tracking the witch,” Jane said, immediately understanding. “A hunter told me what happened. Darcy, I’m so sorry.” She squeezed Darcy’s hand, eyes swimming with tears. 

Darcy swallowed her own and reached for Steve, who was watching the Amazons and Hunters of Artemis dismantle the remaining Grimm with empty eyes. “Steve.” His gaze turned to her, seeing nothing for a few terrible seconds before his eyes cleared and he yanked her to him. 

“We’ll get them back,” she promised him, face pressed against his chest as he shook. “We will.” 

He took a bracing breath and straightened, eyes red-rimmed but dry. “We have to go, Darce, they’re getting away.” 

Hylla’s horse thundered up to them, both horse and rider splattered with blood and ash. Her gaze traveled over Steve with interest, but it was Darcy she spoke to. 

She nodded in greeting. “Darcy.”

“Hylla, thank you.” 

She shrugged. “Bellona, Ares, _and_ Athena gave me separate warnings of this witch. We were guarding important pieces for Athena when Ares told us of the adamantine cache and the demigods walking into a trap.” She grinned over her shoulder at Thalia. “And then when we heard the Hunters of Artemis needed saving, well…” 

“Don’t start with me,” Thalia threatened. 

“Hylla, we’re taking the ship,” Jane said. “The witch took two of ours. We have to catch them before she kills them.” 

Thalia gestured to Isidora and the straggling hunters standing at attention. “Take Isidora and her unit with you,” she told Darcy. “We’ll catch up.” 

“Kinzie!” Hylla shouted. A dark-headed Amazon leaped through the chaos to join them, moving almost faster than Darcy could track. “Go with them. The rest of us will follow. Darcy.” Darcy turned back to her, brow raised in question. “My mother and Ares advise against direct confrontation with this witch. I thought you should know.” 

Though it was hardly what she wanted to hear, Darcy said, “Thanks, Hylla. See you soon.” 

“And my sister says to not get yourself killed!” Hylla shouted after her. She shook her head when Darcy didn’t answer, too busy running after the others. “They grow up so fast.” She glanced back at Thalia. “Well, Grace, what do you say we finish this fight?” 

Thalia strung her bow. “I thought you’d never ask.” 

~*~ 

“I can’t believe I fucking lost them.” Darcy had spent ten minutes in the cabin trying not to puke from the events of the past few hours and ended up at self-hating rage by the time she’d dressed in clean clothes and Steve had joined her to do the same. They'd both been covered in blood and ash, their clothes stiffening with the dirt and grime and blood. 

“We,” Steve corrected tiredly. _“We_ lost them, doll.” She could see streaks of ash and blood in his hair from the way he was bent over, face buried in his hands. She sat next to him on the edge of the bed, emotionally wrung out. 

She kept seeing Bucky’s empty eyes as he lifted Mia and followed obediently after the witch. Her fault. How could she have forgotten the vision, Natasha’s quiet words to Clint about the brainwashing? She’d been shown their conversation for a reason, and she’d let the warning blow right past her. And now one of her loves and her little girl were gone. 

And now, somehow, the witch was miles ahead of them and still gaining ground. The _Paralos_ had taken severe damage during Jane and the others’ side quest, though it chugged steadily along with Jane at the wheel and with help from Kinzie, who turned out to be the daughter of a wind nymph. 

“Steve, I’m so sorry,” she choked out when the silence became oppressive. 

He turned to her in astonishment. “Darcy, this isn’t your fault.” He ignored her stiff posture and pulled her against him, face pressed to her hair. “It’s not, Darce. Buck would say the same.” 

“I never should have let you two so close to this quest, this isn’t even your fight-” 

“The fuck it’s not.” A big hand cupped her cheek, made her look at his narrowed blue eyes. “You think this would be better if we weren’t here? You think either of us would be better off- _happier-_ knowing you were risking your life without us there to watch your back?” 

She took a shaky breath, tried to keep the tears at bay. “You’d be safe, at least.” 

He kissed her temple and said, with typical Steve fashion, “Don’t be stupid.” She huffed a laugh against his chest. “I love you. _We_ love you. And we’re going to get them both back.” 

“Since when are you an optimist?” She muttered. 

“Since I found someone even more pessimistic than me, according to Buck.”

They clung to each other for another long moment until a plaintive meow at the door interrupted them. Darcy opened the door and found Nyx, dressed in a patchwork of bandages and blinking morosely up at her. The same white timber wolf that Mia had befriended hovered anxiously behind Nyx, pointedly ignored by the tiny cat. 

Steve scooped the purple-eyed cat up, mindful of her wounds and burns, as Darcy gathered her swords and drakon hide armor. Together, with the sorrowful wolf padding along, they returned to the deck. 

Hunters rested in various places on the ship, cleaning their weapons as the wolves sprawled out to sleep and the falcons perched in the upper masts. Darcy side-stepped a damaged plank, noting a path of small, scorched footprints with mild alarm. Jane never had specified what kind of danger they'd encountered. 

Adrian stopped her with a hug, letting her lean against him for a few minutes until Nyx batted at him for attention. “Stop that,” he scolded gently when she growled down at the wolf still trailing them. 

“Did you figure out the protections?” Darcy asked. “Will the adamantine work?”

Adrian grimaced. “Yes, but…” 

“But?”

“I need Mia to complete it.” 

She looked away. 

Darcy tuned out as he and Steve spoke softly, Adrian accepting the cranky cat once he’d hugged a distraught Steve as well. She stared out at the passing clouds, the sky full of billowing white puffs that were rapidly thickening, darkening. 

Something tugged at her, a discomfiting sensation that set her on edge. She scowled when she couldn’t identify the nagging feeling- until the passing clouds turned a dark purple. 

She wasn’t asleep, but Morpheus’s touch yanked her into a dream-vision anyway. 

Hecate was waiting for her, her form three blurred, smokey images of the same woman moving in unison. It made Darcy dizzy to watch, but they quickly merged and solidified into one at her appearance. Hecate wore a dark, sleeveless gown, her hair in a high, dark ponytail. At her side sat Hekabe, the large black canine, and a polecat. 

But it was her furious purple eyes that held Darcy’s attention, and the fierce green fire that burned behind her. 

“She has taken my daughter.” Hecate’s voice was low and angry, the barely-contained power behind her voice sending chills down Darcy’s arms. “And one of your lovers as well?”

“Yes.” Darcy swallowed hard. “The witch had me trapped in another dream. She attacked while I was indisposed.” 

“That will not happen again,” Hecate promised darkly. “I will keep very close, Darcy. She will find me waiting for her the next time she tries.” 

“She has what she needs, I don’t know if Svetlana will bother-” 

“You know her name?” Hecate asked sharply. 

“Svetlana Arkadyevna Rovenskaya,” Darcy reported. “Daughter of the Russian goddess Veliona, one who’s been stealing power from other demigods to stay alive until she can cast the deathless spell.” 

Hecate’s eyes were focused on something Darcy couldn’t see. “This changes things,” she murmured. “Names have power, Darcy, and now that this witch is within my reach… I must go. Mia needs to know this. It’s possible that she can slow the witch’s process.” 

“She’s going to try to use Mia for the spell, isn’t she?” 

Hecate smiled, a violent promise as the green fires sparked higher. “She is going to try, yes.” Hekabe growled in anticipation as Morpheus’s gentle grip pulled Darcy away. 

He brought her to the Underworld entrance in Central Park. She inhaled sharply at the sight of the Grimm attempting to fight past the demigods guarding the gate- the witch had made her move, seeking unchallenged access to more souls for her army. Darcy saw a flash of bronze knives that had to be Ash in the melee, a handful of other demigods that lived in the city at his side fighting with grim resolve. 

Nico and his boyfriend Will, a son of Apollo, fought side-by-side at the mouth of the entrance. Will released a sonic arrow that dazed the Grimm, Nico calling upon a legion of undead warriors that climbed out of the ground and met the Grimm in an oddly silent battle. Nico joined them with his black Stygian Iron sword in hand.

To her astonishment, Hades and Persephone had joined the fight as well, stopping the demigods from being overrun by the terrifyingly large force of Grimm. Persephone guided massive plants with blood curdling fangs to swallow Grimm whole. The demigods gave them a wide berth, clocking the plants’ growing bloodthirst and wisely remaining out of reach. 

Hades, tall and lean and dark, settled the Helm of Darkness over his head and disappeared from sight. She only knew he remained in the fight because a mob of Grimm blanched and retreated apropos of nothing. The helm’s magic meant Hades could not be seen, touched, or heard, and he could use it to radiate fear so intense that it could drive a person insane or even stop their heart. The Grimm were monsters, which prevented them from dropping dead, but even the worst monster knew to fear the God of the Dead. 

Persephone turned at the void of Morpheus’s presence. She found Darcy watching and told her with a deep, foreboding tone, _“Hurry.”_

The world shifted again beneath her feet, this time settling on the foster house. Her heart lurched at the sight of the Grimm lurking outside the protections, seeking a weak point and not finding one. 

A volley of arrows made her look up. She found Clint and Marcus firing their bows from the upper balcony, heard the repulsors and blasts that meant Tony was somewhere in the fight, too, defending the place she’d poured her heart into building. 

Clint swore. “I’m out.” 

Marcus leaned down, shattered a piece from the balcony and splintered the wood. With a muttered word, the pieces of wood shifted into perfectly balanced arrows. He grinned at Clint’s dumbfounded expression. “Son of Ares, remember? Watch out for that one, it’ll explode on impact.” 

Clint reached for that one first. “Kid, I ever tell you that you’re terrifying?”

“Yeah,” Marcus said happily, shooting for the closest cluster of Grimm. “But thanks anyway.” 

Darcy looked around for Natasha, worried when there was no sign of her. But Morpheus guided her inside without a word, and she found Natasha kneeling in front of the twins. Pietro was still for once, blank-faced and motionless. 

Wanda was shaking her head wildly. “I won’t, I won’t,” she sobbed, rocking frantically, and then released a rapid fire stream of Russian that sounded like she was pleading. Begging. 

Natasha’s face was pale as she wrapped herself around the twins and murmured something in Russian that soothed the raw terror in their faces. 

But Wanda was still talking. “She can make me,” she gasped. “She can make you, too, she said so.” 

Natasha’s mouth was a thin, firm line. Her eyes drifted to the dagger within arm’s reach, and something hardened in her face that Darcy really did not like. 

The world went blurry again. Darcy was wondering how much more of this she could take when Bucky and Mia came into view. The sight of Mia’s still form, Bucky’s at-attention stance above her, made her heart skip painfully in her chest and her knees weaken.

The witch seemed to be making preparations on the shoreline, ignoring the freezing waves lapping at her feet as she stared out across the sea. The bloody, beating heart was in her hand once more. 

Darcy turned at a small movement. Mia slowly blinked awake, her olive skin badly bruised from the lieutenant’s grip. Bucky didn’t react as she sat up and cautiously peered at her surroundings. Her eyes were wide and fearful until she saw Bucky. 

Mia inched forward, neck craned back to stare up at him. “Bucky?” She whispered. No response. She frowned. “Bucky!” 

He didn’t react. Mia twisted, crouching behind Bucky for cover as she tried to locate the witch and her lieutenant. The witch was snapping orders now, ignoring her two hostages. Confident that Bucky wouldn’t be able to break the conditioning. 

Mia noticed the bleeding heart in the witch’s hand and wrinkled her nose. “Ew.” Then she frowned. “Uh oh. She has the heart. And…” Her eyes widened. “‘The heart of one whose trust she holds, the offspring of a god that reigns over her homeland, the blood of the gods of this land, and…’” 

“The soul of a hero,” Svetlana finished for her. She stood over Mia with a smile so condescending that Mia scowled instinctively. She hated patronization. Svetlana didn’t notice, her attention on Bucky. “And what a soul it is. After all, what is a hero without tragedy?” She trailed her bloody fingers down his cheek. 

“Don’t touch him!” Mia snapped, jumping to her feet. 

“What a fierce little defender you are,” Svetlana crooned. “It’s such a shame about your family, isn’t it?” Mia’s ferocity wavered, uncertainty creeping in. “There’s no one left to come for you, little witch. I suggest you behave yourself, and maybe I’ll let you join them in the afterlife.” 

She stalked away, triumphant when Mia was struck silent. Mia’s hands clenched into fists, breath coming in shallow gasps as tears filled her eyes. Darcy jerked forward instinctively, trying to reach for her, and was held in place by Morpheus. She snarled at him, but he pointed his free hand at Mia. Telling her to pay attention. 

Mia’s grief and terror was almost tangible. She turned to Bucky, seeking comfort, and froze at his thousand-yard stare, a reminder of his condition. “Not _all_ dead,” she muttered to herself, sniffing. Her shoulders straightened as she studied Bucky. 

“Wake up,” she told him firmly. He didn’t move. Her eyes narrowed. Before she could speak again, her spine stiffened and her eyes glowed purple. Mia matched his thousand-yard stare for a single heartbeat, and when the spell passed she had a light of triumph on her face. 

Mia glanced over, checking that the witch hadn’t noticed her mother’s magic, however briefly it had touched her. The witch was too focused on her preparations.

“Svetlana Arkadyevna Rovenskaya,” Mia whispered softly, careful with her pronunciation. A small smile crossed her face, and this time she reached for Bucky, hands pulsing with a soft purple light. She clutched his hands and spoke in Ancient Greek, a whispered spell that drifted past Darcy’s awareness, magic that she didn’t understand brushing past her. 

And this time when Mia spoke, when she ordered Bucky to _“Wake up,”_ he did. Darcy choked back a cry as Bucky blinked, shaking his head minutely as his eyes cleared of the fog of dark magic. He took in the situation in the span of a breath. 

“Bucky!” Mia said, thrilled her spell had worked. He raised a finger to his lips in warning. She nodded seriously. 

“I’m going to get you out of here,” he murmured. 

But Mia shook her head. “I can help stop her. Bucky, she said… the witch said she killed everybody.” Bucky froze. “I don’t know if…” 

“It’s okay,” he said after a moment, swallowing hard. “It’s okay, Mia.” 

“We have to stop her.” 

He cast a cautious glance at the witch, found her bent over something on the ground with her lieutenant, and knelt at Mia’s side, let her cuddle close. “We will.” 

Morpheus’s touch disappeared. Darcy blinked and found herself back on the deck of the _Paralos,_ on her knees and clutching her head as Steve and Adrian hovered over her in concern. 

“Mia broke the spell,” she rasped. She clamped a hand on Steve’s arm, willing him to understand while she struggled for words. “She freed him.” 

Before Steve could answer, hope bright in his eyes, there was a deafening boom and the sky turned a violent red between one heartbeat and the next. Veins of black magic streaked through the sky, stretching farther and farther. 

Athena materialized at her side, the Aegis a terrifying sight on her arm. Her voice was ominous as she looked at the sky and said, “So it begins, daughter.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How many badass ladies can I cram into one fic? So many.


	24. Chapter 24

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> holy shit, so many updates this weekend. amazing how much you can write when your soul isn't being drained by work all day.

The sight of her mother revived her lost optimism. With the goddess of war at her side, Darcy began to quietly review all the information she’d learned in the past few hours. 

“You have a plan?” Athena asked. 

“I’m your daughter, aren’t I?” 

Athena smiled despite herself. “You are.” She glanced over as another goddess appeared, bearing golden Roman armor and weaponry. “Bellona.” 

“Minerva.” The Roman war goddess- and Reyna and Hylla’s mother- turned dark eyes on Darcy. She wore a plumed helmet, armed with sword and spear with a golden shield strapped to her back. In her other hand was a torch with a blood-red flame. “Darcea Athana. I bring news of Camp Jupiter, per my daughter’s request.” 

“Reyna?” 

Bellona tilted her head in acknowledgement. “Reyna holds the boundaries of camp with the Twelfth Legion Fulminata. The Greeks defend their own camp from invasion as well. It seems this witch has split her forces in an attempt to catch us unguarded.” 

“She will not find it so,” Athena murmured. 

“She will not,” Bellona agreed with satisfaction. “We gods must remain out of her grasp still, but you do not fight alone.” She suddenly focused all of her attention on Darcy, the goddess’s power bringing a surge of adrenaline coursing through Darcy’s blood. “Fight smart, demigod, and we just may win this.” 

“Morior invictus, Lady Bellona,” Darcy murmured in response. _Death before defeat._

Shockingly, Bellona smiled. “I like this one, Minerva.” And then she vanished. 

Bickering caught Darcy’s attention. She turned to find Apollo examining Shay’s wounded shoulder and scolding her over the injury, Artemis checking in with Isidora and her present hunters before disappearing, presumably to find Thalia. Jane hurried across the deck, her father on her heels with a giant cannon in his hands. 

“Hecate and Thanatos are close to Mia,” Athena said, drawing her focus back to her mother. “Ares is with his daughter below you. We have not abandoned you to this war, my child.” 

She _had_ been feeling a little deserted, but she’d hardly expected the entire Greek pantheon to show up. Her shock must have shown on her face, because Athena smiled. She cupped Darcy’s face and pressed a kiss to her forehead. “Shall we?” 

Darcy took a breath, reaching out blindly to grip Steve’s hand. He squeezed back, grounding her. “Okay. Okay, first I need… Hestia.” 

Athena raised a brow but dispatched a message in a flash of light without a word. Seconds later, Hestia appeared with a wild-eyed Aphrodite at her side flushed prettily with excitement. “Darcy, darling, how attached are you to your little foster house?” 

“Very,” Darcy said with alarm. “Very attached, Lady Aphrodite.” 

Aphrodite huffed in disgust. “Fine, I’ll veto the explosives if I must.” She vanished in a shower of rose petals. 

“Um.” 

Hestia sighed, the closest to exasperated Darcy had ever seen her. “I will ensure she does not level the house, Darcy. But first- you called?” 

“Yes, I… Can you take a message to Natasha? She’s at the house with the twins.” Darcy thought of the look in Nat’s eyes as she listened to Wanda’s cries, knew the lengths her friend would go to in order to protect those she loved. “Tell her hope isn’t lost yet, and we need her to keep fighting.”

Hestia cocked her head, eyes seeing something far away. A crease of concern furrowed her brow at whatever she saw. “Yes. A wise decision, Darcy. I will ensure your friend does not make any unnecessary sacrifices.” She disappeared with a reassuring smile. 

Darcy breathed a sigh of relief. “Can Hestia get in?” Steve murmured worriedly, having caught onto the subtext of her request. 

“Thais and Aya are there, but we put a loophole in all of our Circles for Hestia,” Adrian said quietly with a wary glance at Athena, hoping she wouldn’t take offense. Athena just winked at him, which made Darcy sigh. That probably meant her mother had found some sort of loophole as well. 

She set that aside for later consideration when the sky boomed again, the black veins growing thicker until the sun was only a weak red glow. Thanatos soared through the sky and landed lightly on the deck, wings folded against his back with a flourish. 

“Her army is larger than expected,” he reported grimly. “I believe she sent the majority of her force to wait here for her arrival.” 

“How many?” Darcy asked, dread rising. 

“A thousand at least.” He made a sweeping gesture with his hand. “Waiting in a semicircle to guard the witch against any attack. Hecate has detected traps should any of the gods attempt to directly smite the army.”

“We can’t face them head on,” Shay said as she joined them, Apollo at her back. “You saw how they tore through the camp. We couldn’t stop them.” 

Darcy chewed her lip in thought. “Kinzie?” The Amazon appeared in a gust of wind. “How large is Hylla’s force?” 

Kinzie shrugged. “Fifty or so. We’ve been recruiting pretty hardcore after Orion…” Isidora placed her hand on Kinzie’s shoulder in silent support. Orion the Hunter had slaughtered many of the Amazons and Hunters of Artemis during Gaea’s attempt to rise. Both forces were still rebuilding.  

Darcy looked around and then snatched a handful of gunpowder out of the bucket in Jane’s hands as she passed. She crouched, let it trickle into a half-circle on the deck. 

“Say we split the witch’s force- all of Hylla’s are mounted, right?” Kinzie nodded. Darcy dragged a finger through the outer edge, breaking off a small pile of gunpowder. “Hylla’s riders split the Grimm’s force apart, break them away from the main force and weaken it.” 

Shay crouched across from her, studying the circle. “They’ll need cover.” She frowned. “Plus, what’s the terrain like down there?” 

Thanatos leaned over them. “Mostly flat, though it’s rocky. As for cover, I believe Hecate is most skilled at creating heavy fog.” 

“Perfect. Once they’re separated from the main force, we pick them off.” 

“Scare tactics,” Steve added. “Make ‘em vanish without a sound, keep ‘em out of sight, that’ll all make the others nervous.” 

“Can the Grimm even feel nervous?” Adrian wondered. 

Kinzie flashed him a grin. “Let’s find out.” 

Darcy reached out and dragged Jane into the huddle when she darted by again. “Janie, think you can give us some overhead cover?” 

Jane stabbed a thumb over her shoulder to where Hephaestus was fixing a massive cannon to the rail of the ship. “Assuming we don’t blow ourselves up first, sure.” 

“Great. Please don’t do that, we kind of need you.” 

Jane shrugged. “I’ll do my best.” 

“So, recap: Hylla breaks the lines of their army, the hunters pick them off, Jane blows up anyone she feels needs to be blown up. Adrian, lay down protections as needed until we can extract Mia and get her to you.” She pointed to Shay. “You and Marley are with me and Steve. We’re going to focus on getting Mia and Bucky out of the line of fire.” 

“Marley and I can get them to the ship,” she agreed. “But we’re coming back to help pick off the Grimm.” 

“I can also assist with this task,” Thanatos offered. “I am the God of Death, and can ensure the stolen souls fueling the Grimm are weakened so they are not so difficult to kill.” Darcy thought of the Grimm’s seeming invulnerability and was fervently grateful for Thanatos’s support. If he weakened the Grimm, prevented them from rejuvenating after every injury, then they just might manage this. 

They’d fought with worse odds before and won, especially in the Twelfth Legion Fulminata. The Fourth Cohort was something like a shit magnet for hordes of monsters at the worst possible moment and, well, she and Shay were still standing, weren’t they? 

Darcy frowned at her broken gunpowder half-circle. “Let the rest of the army follow, lure them out and away from the witch. Then send a couple Amazons to drive them onto a line of waiting hunters, preferably the ones with some Roman army training.” They’d done a lot of cross-training over the years together, and she needed the hunters with that same experience to hold a line that they could drive the Grimm onto. 

“Let Marley handle that,” Shay advised. “Pretty sure she ran that training course for the hunters a couple years back.” 

“She did,” Isidora inputted. “It was very enlightening.” 

Darcy looked up at the resolved, unafraid faces surrounding her, found Athena watching with undisguised approval. “Then let’s move.” 

~*~ 

Heavy fog rolled in from the sea, the mist supplying a clinging dampness that added a level of misery to the biting cold. The air tasted of salt and copper, a combination of the ocean lapping softly the shores and the blood magic at work. 

Darcy ignored it as she and Steve crept through the thick white fog, used to fighting in less-than-ideal conditions. This time, at least, it worked in their favor. Shay and Marley were ghosts in the mist somewhere to her left, silent and lethal as they prowled around enemy lines in search of Mia. 

A white owl perched on Darcy’s shoulder, talons digging into her silver-white coat for balance. She and Steve both wore the silver masks over the bottom half of their faces, a shield against the worst of the cold that seared her throat with every breath. The masks would also keep their voices from carrying and giving away their positions.

Darcy hesitated when the air grew thick in warning. She and Steve crouched low behind a small outcropping, peering through the mist to find the front line of the Grimm army only a hundred feet out. 

“Send them,” Darcy whispered to the owl, who gently knocked its beak against her temple before taking flight. It was a long minute of waiting before the message reached Hylla. 

But soon enough Darcy felt the earth tremble under her feet as Hylla’s riders thundered past, utterly silent but for the war-drum of hooves striking the ground. The heavy beats echoed eerily across the shoreline, covering their angle of approach.

Darcy and Steve watched as a  group of riders easily separated a unit of Grimm from the rest of the army, drawing them into the haze and vanishing without a trace moments later. Darcy heard soft whistles of arrows released, a flutter of wings, and the owl returned with a self-satisfied ruffle of feathers. 

She released a breath, watched it fog in front of her face. Felt the utter stillness wrap around them like a blanket of anticipation. 

And then it started all over again. 

They used the cover of the hoofbeats to slip past the confused army as the Grimm searched for the source of the attack and found nothing until the Amazons exploded out of the fog again. 

Darcy crept soundlessly down the steep, rocky incline. She came up behind Mia as Steve made a beeline for Bucky and, moving fast, pressed a hand over her mouth and yanked her back against her body. Mia wriggled, hands flaring purple. “Shh, it’s me.” 

Mia fought harder now, craning her neck desperately to find Darcy’s face. Darcy released her and was immediately tackled in a hug, Mia muffling her tears against the borrowed coat. 

Darcy glanced up, found Steve nearby clinging to a red-eyed Bucky. “We gotta get you back to the ship,” she whispered to Mia. 

“I can help stop her!” Mia protested. “Mom told me her name.” 

“Can you do it from the safety of the ship?” Darcy countered. 

Mia grimaced. “Maybe. But I can’t go too far. She’s really strong- she just killed her lieutenant for the spell.” 

“Saw that one coming,” Darcy muttered. “So she’s going to need one of you next?” Mia nodded. Darcy glanced at the owl watching their conversation with unnatural intelligence. “Tell Adrian to get down here.” She took flight once more.

“Alright, kid, listen up. Hylla is here-” Mia gave a delighted gasp- “and working with the hunters to break down the Grimm army. Marley and Shay are giving support, and Jane’s going to show up with a cannon at some point.” 

“Mom sent the mist,” Mia said with certainty. 

Darcy smiled. “She did. The other gods are with us, so stay sharp.” As though summoned, Thanatos swept through the fog, dropped a disgruntled Adrian at their side, and returned to the skies. 

“Never again,” Adrian swore, looking green. He snatched Mia up in a tight hug, pressing a kiss to her hair as she shook against him. “Alright, trouble, we’ve got work to do.” 

The ground shook as Hylla’s riders made another pass, invisible in the mist. Darcy sensed a stirring of confusion from the army as another group of riders attacked from the opposite side, splitting them further. So far the assault had been swift, silent, and brutal. 

Darcy jogged over the rocky ground towards Steve and Bucky. She threw herself against him, choking back tears of relief. “You’re okay?” 

“I’m okay, doll.” He cupped her face, blue eyes regretful. “I’m-” 

“If you say you’re sorry,” she threatened. 

He cut off with a tired smile. “Already heard it from the punk. Listen, I can’t be anywhere near the witch. I don’t know if the trigger is still active, and I don’t… I can’t hurt either of you-” 

He was interrupted when the ground trembled again, but this time it was deeper than the rider’s pass. Darcy heard a mighty crack, the only warning they had before they lost their footing and fell. She controlled her fall, landed easily and sprang back to her feet. 

Svetlana stood behind them, smiling against a bloody backdrop as a piece of earth broke away from the shore and floated out to the sea, carrying them with it. Separating them from the rest of their support. 

Darcy bent her knees for balance when the ice swayed beneath her feet, struggled to remain standing as Steve and Bucky did the same at her back. 

“I’ve been waiting for this,” Svetlana told her, eyes fixated on Darcy. “A chance to meet you face to face, to show you the meaning of true power.” 

Darcy risked a glance back to shore, found Mia and Adrian staring after them with terrified faces. Bucky was shaking his head, backing away towards the roiling sea, refusing to let Steve near him. “Don’t-” 

“Soldat,” Svetlana crooned, “Подчиняться.” 

Bucky stiffened. She saw his desperate struggle for control, the gentle purple glow in his eyes nearly swallowed by black. Svetlana narrowed her eyes. _“Подчиняться.”_

Steve was moving, drawing his shield with lethal intent. Darcy scrambled for him, watching with horror as the witch’s focus diverted to the golden-haired warrior standing tall between her and her chosen victim. She was too slow, too late, and a wave of black magic shot for him like an arrow of impending death. 

Darcy’s desperate scream was cut off when the magic met a shield of darkness mere inches from his skin. The backlash sent a deafening crack through the air. Svetlana recoiled against the ferocity of the opposing magic, as stunned as the rest of them. 

Steve was wide-eyed, baffled, but took advantage of the confusion to send his shield hurtling for the witch. Svetlana batted it aside, sent it skidding across the snow out of reach. Bucky still knelt, fighting desperately against the magic. 

A violent boom made them all look back to shore. The _Paralos_ drifted out of the sky, firing cannon blasts into the Grimm army with precise aim that caused maximum damage. Svetlana snarled and threw another blast of magic- not at Steve, this time, but at the ice under his feet. 

It gave way, sending him beneath the thrashing waves. Darcy drew her sword with a growl and advanced. The witch turned to Bucky and barked, _“Подчиняться”_ again. He raised his head slowly, eyes swallowed by the sickening black. 

Svetlana whirled on Darcy, hands raised. The blast of magic sent her staggering back, slipping dangerously on the ice. She gritted her teeth, felt the magic double down, and slammed her sword into the ice at her feet for an anchor as she fell to her knees. 

A scream of fury tore from her throat as the witch’s power tried to flay the skin from her bones. She felt the air turn to poison as the dark magic was unleashed, Svetlana advancing with manic anticipation. 

“You see, little полубог? _This_ is power. You are _nothing_ in the face of my magic. Everything you know and love will fall to me.” She reached down, brushed a sharp nail over Darcy’s cheekbone. Darcy felt the touch sear her skin, a horribly familiar burn choking her with pain. 

She glowered at Svetlana, let the witch lean closer with a victorious smile, and then activated Aegis. 

The blow sent Svetlana skidding on her back across the ice, a shriek of pain and rage rising over the roar of the waves. Darcy glanced over, saw a blank-eyed Bucky coming for her, and sent her shield skimming across the surface to knock his feet out from under him. 

She felt a stab of worry for Steve, who hadn’t reappeared, as she sprinted for Svetlana. Her sword was painfully cold in her hand, the other humming in its sheath against her back. She reached the witch just as Svetlana regained her footing with a sword that sprang out of the swirl of dark magic around her hand. 

“I’m going to make you regret that,” she swore, and cast another dark arrow towards Bucky, who was blinking in confusion. But even as the magic hit him, it shattered. Darcy’s focus zeroed in on a small white charm hanging around his neck. She saw Mia duck behind his body with a triumphant grin, saw Steve haul himself back onto the ice at her side. 

Svetlana screamed her rage, her magic exploding out of her. Darcy was sent flying back and had a moment to truly fear what the witch would be capable of with her full power. She heard three splashes that meant Steve, Bucky, and Mia had gone overboard once more. 

Darcy’s sword skidded just out of reach. She lunged for it and hit a wall of power that wrapped around her throat and began to squeeze. When that didn’t work, the Curse of Achilles protecting her body, the magic doubled in intensity until it felt as though she held the weight of the world on her shoulders. The drakon hide armor heated against her skin, either absorbing or deflecting the spikes of death magic trying to sink into her skin. 

Darcy’s vision darkened, teeth gritted against the strain- and felt her heart skip a beat at the flutter of dark wings across the ice. A crow watched her with interest once more, hopping closer as the witch bore down on her. 

Darcy watched in disbelief when the bird picked up a wriggling golden snake and took flight. “Motherfucker,” she hissed, reaching for the sword against her back as Svetlana geared up for her final strike. 

But before the magic reached her, Aegis dropped into her hand and the shield burst forth just in time to deflect the death blow. The crow flew directly into Svetlana’s face with a cheerful caw. Darcy scrambled to her feet, dodged the wild blasts of power, and slammed into the witch. 

They went down hard. 

The ice gave a mighty crack, and then all was still. 

Kneeling, Darcy stared down at the blank eyes of Svetlana Arkadyevna Rovenskaya, the Stygian Iron sword embedded in the witch’s heart and into the ice below. 

She watched, the world utterly still and silent around her, as the witch’s body faded from sight, absorbed in hazy white streams by the fierce purple glow of her obsidian sword. The dark streaks of magic in the sky above slowly withdrew, the blood-red stain washing away until soft blue remained. 

Darcy looked up at a gentle rustle, found the crow watching her from the shoulder of a tall, willowy woman.

The Morrigan tipped her head to Darcy with an enigmatic smile and then vanished in a whiff of smoke. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're almost finished! You guys have been so supportive, which I appreciate more than I can say. One more chapter to go :)


	25. Chapter 25

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shorter final chapter, but I wanted to do multiple scenes and this worked best. Also some brief smut ahead.

Spring fought stubbornly against the oppressive heat of summer, the final days of the season marked by soft breezes and brightly colored flowers. Darcy couldn’t dredge up any surprise at the longer-than-usual spring, knowing Persephone’s tendency to do as she wished and nothing more. 

Darcy would take great enjoyment from both seasons, because the heat of the sun and lively flora kept nightmares of the witch and their final battle at bay. Six months wasn’t long in the grand scheme of her life, but it gave her some distance from the terrible winter past. 

Hecate and Hestia had removed the final trigger words from Bucky and Natasha’s memories, a long and painful process for everyone involved. The twins, by the grace of some god somewhere, hadn’t yet been subjected to that particular horror. 

Darcy’s Starkphone beeped. She opened her new message and grinned at the selfie from Thalia and her hunters, traipsing through a forest in the middle of nowhere. Matching white charms glittered around their necks, identical to the one hidden beneath Darcy’s shirt. 

Adrian's charms weren’t strong enough to create individual protections for the wearer, but it  _ did _ hide them all from monsters that hunted them through contact with technology. Now demigods could use technology without fear of attack, and monsters could not hunt them down with the adamantine protection hanging around their necks. 

They were weak enough that the gods could still find their children, which Darcy privately thought had prevented a civil war. Though it had factored into her decision to keep the Curse of Achilles, at least for a little longer. She'd try her luck in the river at Camp Jupiter one day, when she was comfortable giving up that advantage- who knew what the future held, after all? 

She sipped her coffee, leaning against one of the idling cars outside the foster house. Athena had quietly supported her decision to keep the Curse, though whether for her own hidden motives Darcy didn't know. But she trusted her mother enough now to accept her counsel, with only the normal amount of skepticism. 

“Alright, kids, in you go.” Ash herded the cluster of demigod children into a waiting SUV borrowed from Stark Industries, double checking their necklaces were worn correctly-  _ “not tied around your forehead, Alianne”  _ \- as they buckled in. 

Amelie climbed into the driver’s seat of the SUV, visibly thrilled to be able to take Luc to camp this year. Marley joined her, their car’s acting guard. Natasha pressed a kiss to Darcy’s cheek as she followed the twins to Clint’s car, Pietro zipping back and forth anxiously until Wanda glowered him to a standstill. 

“Hey, Darce!” Shay called, arms braced on the hood of their old truck. She grinned. “For old time’s sake?” 

Darcy laughed, her chest warming at the sight of Mia and Adrian hanging out of the window with matching grins. Ash came up beside her, throwing an arm over her shoulders and stealing her coffee. “Dibs on the window seat.” 

She elbowed him in the ribs. “Dream on.” 

“Hey, I think I should ride in the back this time,” Mia said earnestly. “It’s only fair.” 

“Maybe when you’re taller,” Shay teased, ruffling her hair. “Besides, you have to sit with Eos.” The timber wolf, despite Darcy and Shay’s best efforts, had decided Mia was his home now. So now they lived with a hundred and twenty pound wolf that meekly obeyed exactly two others- Mia and Nyx. 

Nyx frequently slapped the wolf if he got too rambunctious for her tastes, but Darcy knew the cat was affectionate towards Eos when she thought no one else was looking. It worked for them, and no one had been eaten yet, so she didn’t waste her breath arguing. Besides, Artemis wouldn’t have permitted it if Eos posed a threat to anyone. Probably.

Darcy was reserving judgement for after Mia’s next reign of terror at Camp Half-Blood. Poor Chiron had no idea what he was in for this year.

She sent a text to Steve and Bucky to let them know their entourage was heading out and vaulted into the back of the truck with Shay. Ash promptly lost the window seat to the wolf. 

“Odds?” Adrian called as he started the engine. He tugged the bag filled with adamantine charms out of Nyx’s grasp, storing it safely under the seat for the other demigods at camp. 

“Eh. I didn’t even bring my sword,” Darcy said, getting comfortable. 

Adrian looked mildly alarmed. “You must have a lot of faith in me.” 

“You know we do,” Ash said, leaning over to smack a loud kiss to his cheek. Mia giggled as she was squished between them. 

“Get a move on, Cortez,” Shay drawled. “We’ve got three cars full of restless campers. Better hurry before they start setting things on fire.” 

“Right, yes, leaving now.” 

~*~

“Don’t,” Darcy warned. 

“It’s happening,” Steve said, undeterred even as she swatted at him. 

“No!” She smacked his bare chest with a growl. “Steve, you’re ruining my shower!” 

Big, warm hands wrapped around her hips, sliding down to cup her ass. “Our shower now, doll. Besides, how am I supposed to resist you naked and wet in here?” 

“You bastard,” she muttered, anger wavering when those hands kept moving, sliding over wet skin with purpose. “You’re blocking all the water.” 

“Haven’t we had this argument before?” Bucky wondered, stripping off his sweatpants. 

“Not you too!” 

He just grinned as he stepped into the shower stall, the tiled area just barely able to hold them. Darcy sighed in defeat when their broad shoulders blocked the spray of water, leaving her wet and rapidly chilled. 

At least until Bucky plastered himself against her back and angled them back under the spray of hot water. His hands, one flesh and one a slightly cooler metal forged in Hephaestus’s workshop last week, skimmed up her abdomen to brush his thumbs against the swell of her breasts. She shivered and let him take more of her weight as Steve explored the heat building between her legs. 

“Huh, imagine that,” he mused. “All the arguments have ceased.” 

“Dick,” Darcy said on a laugh. She made a noise low in her throat when two fingers slid into her, pressing deep. She let her head fall back against Bucky’s shoulder, giving him access to her throat. 

“You always this cranky in the morning, doll?” Bucky asked against the skin of her neck, teeth scraping along her pulse. 

_ “Someone _ kept me up late,” she said breathlessly, curling her hands around Steve’s biceps and digging her nails into his skin when he teased at her clit with his thumb. He grinned down at her. 

“You weren’t complainin’ then,” he reminded her. 

“Shut up and fuck me.” 

“Funny, that’s exactly what you said last night, too.” But he pulled his hand away, watched with dark eyes as Bucky braced her against him, sliding one hand under her knee to hold her open. Darcy squirmed, a whine building high in her throat, pinned in place. 

Steve braced one hand on the wall behind Bucky’s shoulder as his other hand guided his cock into her. Darcy curled her fingers into his back, thought of the red welts and scratches she’d leave behind with a jolt of lust, and panted as Steve turned his head to kiss Bucky deeply. 

She let out a choked breath when the head of his cock dragged against her walls with agonizing slowness, teasing her until her knees went weak. She arched her back, trying to encourage him to move faster, but Steve kept the aching, leisurely slow pace, unhurried and obviously enjoying her desperate moans.

Steve leaned down to kiss her, tongue sliding wetly against hers until her mind went blank, until all she could focus on were the sensations, the gentle drift into a dreamy, hazy pleasure. 

Bucky’s lips pressed against the curve of her neck. “Let us take care of you, doll.” 

Darcy surrendered to them with a sigh. 

~*~ 

“We have a problem.” 

Darcy looked up to find Jane in the doorway to her lab, staring at Darcy with wild eyes. Darcy set aside her marker and turned away from the board filled with equations. “Okay?” 

“I thought you said that you were meeting Hephaestus in his workshop.” 

“I was? I mean, I am?” Darcy frowned in confusion. “Bucky and I are going in an hour or so to work on his arm some more.” 

“Not anymore you’re not!” Jane’s voice rose to near-hysterical levels. “Because Hephaestus decided to come visit the so-called genius  _ disaster _ that is your father, and now they’re in his lab.  _ Collaborating.” _

“Oh, shit.” Something rumbled in the lab upstairs. “Go, go, go!” 

~*~ 

“So, Steve, did you know your grandparents?” Darcy asked casually over dinner in Steve and Bucky’s apartment. Quiet music played in the background and the lights were low, lending a soft atmosphere to their peaceful date night. 

They hadn’t been interrupted on a date night in weeks, which was nothing short of a miracle. But just in case, she sent out a mental warning to any budding supervillains hoping to try their luck tonight. Her version of knocking on wood, only with more potential for violence.

“No, they didn’t come over with my parents when they immigrated to the States.” Steve shrugged. “But Ma told me a little about them when I was little. Why do you ask?” 

“No reason,” Darcy murmured, sipping her wine as Bucky eyed her suspiciously. “Just curious.” She still wondered, after all this time, what the Morrigan’s purpose had been in saving Steve’s life. A goddess looking out for her devoted soldier? Or a deity protecting her bloodline?

The Morrigan still freaked her out. In most of Steve’s stories about her, the goddess was not a benevolent deity. She was a goddess of death and war, but after centuries of her worshippers deciding,  _ “Yeah, she's kinda bad, but we love her,” _ her role shifted to guardian of her peoples’ land. 

Like Lilo and Stitch, but with more death and ruination. 

“You still convinced Steve’s her descendent?” Bucky asked. 

Darcy hummed thoughtfully. “It wouldn’t surprise me. Either that or she’s using your faith as an anchor, which is a whole other nightmare.” 

Steve rolled his eyes good naturedly. “Don’t be ridiculous, Darce. The Morrigan has more interesting things to concern herself with than me.” 

Darcy watched the crow perched on a branch just outside the window. “I wouldn’t be so sure about that,” she murmured, but let it go for now- even as the crow cawed a cheerful agreement and took flight. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aaaand it's done! From everything I read about the Morrigan, the "she's bad" "yeah, but we love her" thing was true and so hilarious I had to include it. Humans, man. So ridiculous.
> 
> I will now be taking time "off," by which I mean I will immediately begin writing my next fic before posting. It's the final part of the Legacy verse (my other Darcy series) and is undoubtedly the most ambitious, extensive writing project I've ever attempted. 
> 
> I am so beyond excited about the storyline though and can't wait to share it with you guys! If you haven't read the Legacy series, maybe give it a try?? I feel like I've poured my heart and soul into it lol & have written so that you don't need to know Teen Wolf to read it :)
> 
> Thank you again for all the kudos, comments, and support. You're all wonderful <3


End file.
